Dog Whistle
by LadyKF
Summary: In canon, Kunsel would have done anything to save Zack. This time, he gets a chance to. (Soulmate AU)
1. Wake Me Up

**A/N:** This was from a Tumbr prompt from a list of Soulmate AUs. The prompt was "Zack/Kunsel, the one where soulmates share extreme physical sensation — if one gets hurt, the other gets hurt, and etc." There was an opportunity there, and I took it.

* * *

Kunsel woke up screaming.

He was a SOLDIER, he'd been to war, that wasn't _new,_ but he hadn't ever woken up screaming because he felt like… like his _chest_ had just been carved open. He was half way to hyperventilating when someone hauled off and hit him hard enough that he went back down on the mattress. Blue eyes stared blindly as he clutched at his chest, wheezing.

"-sel? Hey, c'mon man, get it together." The voice filtered in first. Everything was dark, and it still spun sickeningly.

Then the lights came on - _not blind, that__'s good -_ and Kunsel blinked a little bit more, wiping tears out of his eyes with a thick sniffle. The pain had faded almost as quickly as it had come, leaving behind a sharp ache. He pressed at his chest a moment, willing the world back into some sort of order.

"_Kunsel._"

"Yes, s-sorry." He coughed, shaking his head with a shudder he could feel down to his bones. Everything was going _numb,_ what the _hell?_

"You need a doctor?" Kythe's expression said exactly what kind he intended to call first.

Kunsel waved it off. "No, man, I'm fine. Just had a physical, there's nothing wrong with… me."

Oh.

_Oh no._

No, nothing was wrong with him, not in the slightest. That wasn't _his_ pain in the first place. "…_Zack_."

Kythe's gaze sharpened. "What?"

"It's _Zack,_" Kunsel breathed. "I can _feel him._"

Kunsel's bond with Zack was something of an open secret at this point - everyone knew they were soulmates, though not everyone knew the nature of their bond. Because, of course, if they'd told administration _'hey, I can feel anything my soulmate feels strongly enough'_ that would have been cause for dismissal, and neither one of them was ready to give SOLDIER up. Assuming they even got to _retire_.

But Kythe knew. Another career Second, he'd climbed the ranks at the same time, and was well familiar with the particular nuance of their bond - had, in fact, covered for both of them about it more than once.

So when Kunsel said he felt Zack, after waking up _screaming,_ not three weeks after Zack had been declared dead?

A low growl rumbled in his chest. "One more they're trying to take from us."

Kunsel bared his teeth, mako eyes brightening. "Not this time."

Kythe nodded. "We need to make some calls, before we take this in the field. Seems to me, too many people have gone out in groups of two and no one's come back."

"Good idea. I'll just… wait for feeling in my legs again." Kunsel rubbed his face with trembling hands and tried to turn the frantic refrain of _Zack is alive Zack is alive Zackisalive_ into something useful. Because Zack was alive, _for the moment._ But he was hurt, badly. And there were people who had _let that happen._ "Hey, grab my phone first, would you? I'm not bending for it yet."

"Sure." Kythe took it off the dock and dropped it on his lap, before going to get his and make a few discreet phone calls of his own.

Kunsel stared at his phone a moment. It wasn't quite six yet, but on a week day it was an acceptable call time. "Hey, Ky? Who're you calling?"

"Morrison," he said. He was one of the only Firsts they had left, and the only one in Midgar. "I think he's on base, and he can help me organize people."

"'People'?" Kunsel said.

"Look, I know you're going to call that Turk who liked Zack," Kythe said. "But I think they might be a lot more inclined to listen if half the base shows up."

Kunsel shook his head. "Yeah… thanks, man."

"You got it." He nodded. "'Cause I am _ready_ to go public with this. Zack had connections. People _loved_ him. When they find out this is more ShinRa BS? There's going to be hell to pay."

"How long do you think you need to get a good group?" Kunsel asked.

"I could have half the base roused in a half hour," he said.

Kunsel smiled. "_Perfect._"

* * *

Cissnei was awake when her phone rang, though not yet out of her pajamas since it was a rare day off. She blinked at the ceiling a moment, before rolling onto her side and picking it up to check. _Kunsel?_ Huh. She flipped it open, rolling back over. "Morning."

"Hey, morning." He sounded subdued. "I was just wondering if you'd like to go to breakfast. I, uh… I need to talk."

Sympathy squeezed her heart. He'd been so lost since Zack died. "Sure, I can do that. When do you want to meet?"

"Give me an hour? I can meet you in the lobby and we could go somewhere," Kunsel offered.

"Yeah, sure I can do that," she agreed.

"Great, I'll see you then."

"Sure thing, Kunsel." She hung up and sighed, getting up and going to get ready for the day. It was just enough time to shower and tidy up before she went out to meet him.

The lobby was a lot more crowded than she was expecting when she came down. Well-honed senses tingled with foreboding as she approached Kunsel. He wasn't wearing his helmet for once, and there was something in his eyes she'd never seen before. They were a little too bright. A little too hard. "Hey…"

"Hey, Cissnei." He pushed off the table, coming to stand in front of her. "Got a question for you. You were in Nibelheim for the cleanup, right?"

The feeling of foreboding strengthened. He had his back to the cameras, and she'd forgotten, somehow, that he was a good bit taller than her. "The director handled things personally."

"Uh huh." He arched a brow. "He tell you Zack was still alive?"

Cissnei felt her stomach bottom out, gaping at him as her mind stuttered. She hadn't been in the reactor, but she'd seen bodies taken out on stretchers. She'd _assumed — _"I… what?"

He stared at her a long moment. "So you didn't know. Then I need to talk to someone higher up. Because we're not losing him."

_We?_ Cissnei looked around and suddenly started to realize that the vast majority of the men around her, _watching_ her, however discreetly, had mako eyes. Her mouth went dry. "Kunsel…"

"You talk your boss," Kunsel said softly. "Because by the time you do, _all_ of SOLDIER will know. This can go one of two ways - you guys can help us out, and we can handle this quiet, or we can burn every last ShinRa stronghold down until we find him. Clear?"

"Clear," she whispered.

"Atta girl." He smiled icily. "You go on now, have a word. You've got a whole hour before I go public with this. See how far that fanclub we made reaches."

She nodded, swallowing hard. "I should go."

"You should," he agreed.

Cissnei nodded again, taking a few steps backwards before making herself turn quickly and head back for the elevator, a couple dozen mako eyes burning into her back. She got her phone out at once, dialing Veld directly. "Director? We've got a problem."

* * *

There was a lot of blood on Veld's hands. More than he'd like was innocent, people he didn't think had earned their fate, but he went along with it because… well, ShinRa had his leash.

Nibelheim was one of those times.

He'd known, going into Nibelheim, that it was wrong. That was the whole reason he'd handled it himself; his hands were never going to be clean, he could at least spare his Turks that.

Funny enough, he'd never seen this coming.

The bond between soulmates was a private thing, something that varied from pair to pair; you never knew what it was that had told them 'this is the one.' He'd had a name on his wrist, scarred over now. And Kunsel, apparently, could _feel sensation,_ if it was strong enough. Like pain.

_What have you done, Hojo?_

He supposed it didn't matter, not in the position they were in. Because he didn't doubt for one moment Kunsel was serious. SOLDIER had lost too much, and they knew who was to blame. They were done. And if a third of SOLDIER would leave for Genesis, who had been a charismatic leader but an acquired taste, the rest of them would leave for Zack, who had been a charismatic leader who had never met someone he wouldn't reach out to.

They couldn't afford that loss, not for Hojo's petty little game of vengeance.

Of course, he could take it to the President, but it would be… safer, _easier_, to settle this on his own, and leave that as a last resort. He didn't want the board involved in this.

So, forty five minutes after Cissnei called him, he came up to the SOLDIER floor, to be met by enough SOLDIERs to literally tear the building apart by hand, if they felt like it. The anger in the room was a palpable thing, and several sets of mako eyes had a warning tint of green from how wound up they were.

Kunsel was one of them, sporting a full, furious ring of it; if he was any angrier, he'd be on the verge of a limit break. "So, _Director._ What's the deal?"

"I'll be taking you to Nibelheim personally," Veld said. "You'll get your soulmate back, as long as you let me handle the politics."

Kunsel eyed him a long moment, then offered a hand to shake.

He could _feel_ the sensors in his hand protest. Had it been his flesh one, he'd have been in pain.

Judging from the Second's smile, that was fully intentional. "So long as I get Zack back, no strings attached, I'd be happy to. I don't want any fuss, Director. I just want him back."

"Deal."


	2. Reunions

It was a long flight to Nibelheim, no matter which way you went. They took a transport, Kunsel accompanied by three other Seconds, Cissnei and Emma accompanying Veld. Tseng held things down in Midgar, ready to act as necessary.

Hopefully, it would be an entirely unnecessary precaution, but being a Turk tended to put an end to most blind optimism.

The tension was high the whole way, nothing he hadn't dealt with before, but it was always a little different with the distinct vibe of _predator_ that came with SOLDIERs. They were at the top of the food chain, and they knew it. And in many ways, a seasoned Second Class SOLDIER was _easily_ as dangerous as their First Class counterparts. They may not have had the same sheer power, but skill and strategy were nothing to sneeze at.

Of course, in close quarters _none of that _mattered in a battle between enhanced and unenhanced, even Turks.

"Coming in, Chief," Emma said, always professional no matter how much stress was piled on. There was a good reason he'd chosen her.

"I would like to remind SOLDIER that their priority is recovering Zack Fair, and that _I_ will be dealing with whatever staff is here," Veld said, looking back at Kunsel. "No matter what happens."

Kunsel was silent a long moment, taking in a slow breath. It was clear he wanted blood for this, but he wasn't stupid. "You do what you have to, Director. So long as I have Zack, no strings attached, I'll let you handle things."

Veld nodded, starting to look away, only to see a faint flare in his eyes.

Kunsel held his eyes, his own overbright. "Now, if that _changes__…_"

"You'll get him back," Veld said. "We made a deal, didn't we?"

Kunsel nodded slowly, standing up at the slight bump when they touched down.

"Shinra Manor?" One of them said. It was impossible to tell who was who, with the helmets.

"That's where he'll be," Veld said. "You all follow me."

"Silva, stay at the gate," Kunsel said. "We'll trail through, so we're not… interrupted."

Emma glanced at him, but Veld shrugged slightly. He wasn't going to argue it. Fewer SOLDIERs when they got down to the labs sounded like a great idea.

They made their way quietly, Veld in the lead with Kunsel at one side and Cissnei at the other. There was a skeleton staff - Hojo got left alone in Nibelheim these days, and that was just how he liked it. He hadn't had many back in the day, either; Gast had mostly just cut him and Lucrecia loose, with Vincent to mind security.

And he really needed not to let his mind go there. This was bad enough.

Up the stairs, and down to the basement, and by the time they were heading for the labs it was just Kunsel, Veld, and Cissnei, which was the best he could ask for. He could _feel_ the tension radiating off of the SOLDIER beside him, and if he was a praying man he'd have sent a prayer to someone that Kunsel kept his word. Because he wasn't sure what they were going to walk in on, but he had some _ideas_, and none of it was good. "Keep your head in here, James."

"I've got my priorities straight, thanks," he murmured.

Veld watched him a moment, then inclined his head and headed into the library. "Hojo."

"…and what, pray tell, are you doing here? With a _SOLDIER,_ no less?" Hojo asked, glancing up from a readout.

"Fair's got an empathetic soulbond," Veld said flatly.

Hojo's brows rose and his gaze turned speculative. "_Interesting._ That would be fascinating to -"

"No," Veld said, knowing _that_ tone. "We're here for Fair. You're done with him."

Hojo gave him a disappointed, and frankly unimpressed look. "I don't recall saying any such thing. Or hearing anything about it from the President."

"The President doesn't know you're playing with the best First he had left, either," Veld said coolly, holding up a hand at the little rumble from Kunsel. "We both know what this is about. Get over it. You're not getting him back like this."

Hojo's eyes narrowed, lips pressed in a thin line. Once upon a time he might have snarled. "_Get over it._ Rich, coming from you."

"Don't make this about me, Hojo. Just let the kid go," Veld said.

"And what, you'll bring him back to ShinRa where he'll just slide right back into line and everything will be nice and neat? You know better." Hojo shook his head with a smirk. "Why don't you just hand over this one and I'll forget this little trespass ever occurred."

"Because there's not a SOLDIER in Midgar that doesn't know about this," Kunsel said softly. "And if I don't come back with Zack? More than SOLDIER will know, about a whole lot more than just Zack."

Hojo's brows made a valiant climb for his hairline, smirk widening with genuine amusement. "Why _Veld,_ if I didn't know better I'd say you were being _blackmailed._ Do you mean to tell me this _child_ has outmaneuvered the head of the Turks?"

"My motivations are irrelevant," Veld said. "Quit stalling. I've made up my mind, and you're running out of choices here."

"I've made my choice," Hojo said, as if speaking to someone particularly dense. "The answer is no."

"_Wrong choice,_" Kunsel hissed, surging forward.

Veld's prosthetic arm snapped out and grabbed him by his belts, jerking him back. "What did I say about letting me handle this?"

"Then _make him_ _let Zack go,_" Kunsel said.

"I'm not done yet." Veld had no illusions that anything but sheer _shock_ was all that had let that maneuver work; there was no way a strip of fabric, no matter how reinforced, was going to keep a SOLDIER in place. But Kunsel settled, even if he was giving off an air of barely leashed tension. He wondered if it was paranoia that made him see a flicker of blue in the air, the threat of a limit. "I don't think you understand, Hojo. I'm not asking your permission to have Fair. I'm _telling you,_ we're here for him. And you of all people ought to know there is absolutely nothing either one of us are going to be able to do fast enough to stop the SOLDIERs here from taking him by force if you continue to resist."

Hojo blinked at him. "That's it? You're just rolling over for a child? You already signed off on this, Faraman. You brought me the bodies. You don't get to pretend you have the moral high ground here."

"I never pretended to," Veld said. "But I know when it's time to adapt to survive. Now's one of those times. You made SOLDIER a force that no one could stop. Not even you."

"I really have no problem killing him right now," Kunsel said, voice dropping from his usual tenor to something eerily dark. "You have no idea how _easy_ it would be, I don't even have to _touch you,_ but let me tell you I'm not above ripping you apart with my bare hands."

"Easy, SOLDIER," Veld said quietly.

Hojo arched a brow, clearly unimpressed despite the very real threat to his life. "What makes you think you could take him? He won't survive without my aid at this point. You're too late."

"Why should I believe you?" Kunsel said. "And if I do, why should I let you live if he won't? If you can't save him from what you've done, I have no reason to let you live."

"James -" Veld started.

"Yo, Kuns, there's some freaky strong energy back here!" One of the SOLDIERs yelled, voice echoing through the basement.

"Holy _shit,_ there are coffins in here!" Another said.

Veld half turned, incredulous. "_Coffins?_"

That was a mistake.

Kunsel pushed past him, past Hojo, following his senses to that bright, familiar spark of energy he'd know deaf and blind. "Zack! _Zack,_ oh my god what did he do to you?"

Veld hurried after him, desperate to try and maintain _some_ sort of control. "James - _Kunsel,_ wait. You can't just break him out of there, there is a _system_ for that."

Kunsel stood in front of the mako tank, fingertips just barely touching as he stared with wide, overbright eyes. He didn't notice when Veld came up behind him, overcome with emotion.

Zack was there. It was real. He was suspended in a mako solution, a stitched incision down his sternum that had to have been what he'd felt and yet was already healing. Little bubbles drifted up from the facemask he wore, a couple attached monitors stuck to his chest but no apparent IVs. He looked thinner, but not as bad as Kunsel had been expecting for three weeks at Hojo's mercy.

_I could break him out,_ Kunsel thought. He didn't need to wait for Hojo. Didn't need to deal with that freaking _psychopath_ who had done this to begin with. As long as he was careful not to break it in a way that might injure Zack further, just tear it open at the seams -

A sudden, deafening report of a gun echoed through the basement, startling them both.

Veld was moving before he'd even thought of it. None of the SOLDIERs had a gun, which meant it was Emma or Cissnei or _Hojo_, what would make them _use a gun,_ he never should have left them alone -

He skidded to a stop in the doorway, staring in shock. A tall, lean figure draped in crimson stood over Hojo's dead body, a familiar three barreled gun in his hand. After a moment, he turned his head, glowing red eyes looking through a fall of silky black hair, face shockingly young and breathtakingly familiar.

Veld choked. "_Vincent?_"


	3. Not Too Late

It was clear Vincent was taken aback, eyes widening slightly as he stood a little straighter. "…Veld."

There was a sudden shout from the other room, followed by the sound of rending metal and a flood of liquid, and some distant part of Veld was grateful for the distraction because he had absolutely no idea what to say. Vincent gestured back towards the labs, and Veld nodded, turning and jogging back in time to see Kunsel gently lifting a limp Zack Fair into his arms, Cissnei fluttering around him removing the breathing mask and monitoring cables with a frantic expression.

He couldn't blame her, but there really wasn't anything she could _do_ once Kunsel had made up his mind. "You couldn't wait for -"

Kunsel turned, curling over Zack defensively, and _snarled,_ his eyes a dangerously green shade of teal.

"Hey," Cissnei said gently, touching his arm.

"_Cissnei,_" Veld warned.

"Shh, hey, it's okay," Cissnei said, the kind of soothing tone you'd use on a scared animal. Kunsel looked at her, but other than a quick, nervous lick of her lips she stayed calm, keeping eye contact. "He brought you here, remember? He helped you get Zack back. We're on your side."

Kunsel took a slow, deep breath and let it out in a rush. His voice was rough with emotion. "Help me get this off of him."

"There should be a chemical shower in the little room off to the left," Veld said.

Kunsel nodded, turning back that way, boots clacking over the discarded safety glass, heedless of the fact that it was slick with mako solution. "Have one of the guys get the bag I packed. He can't wear this, it's soaked."

Veld hesitated to leave Cissnei with him, and felt a hand light on his shoulder.

"I'll find someone," Vincent said. "And a tech, if I can."

Veld nodded, grateful. Whatever had happened to Vincent, no matter how strange his appearance was at first, when he looked into his eyes he still saw his partner. Instinct said to trust him, and there was too much going on to fight his own instincts. "Go."

Vincent turned and left silently, leaving Veld to deal with a borderline-greening SOLDIER entirely too close to one of his Turks.

Cissnei was keeping up a soft, steady stream of chatter - nonsense, really, but it helped keep her calm and it seemed to be relaxing Kunsel some, and she'd talk until she was blue if it would help. Zack was dead weight, completely unconscious and stripped down to his boxers, more modesty than she expected Hojo to care for.

The shower was harsh, even from the movable shower head, but Zack didn't stir, and it was powerful enough to let them rinse the clingy mako off of him. Kunsel startled when Veld came to the doorway with a large dispenser, but he didn't growl and Veld counted that a win.

"This is the soap Hojo would have used to keep things sterile. It'll take the mako off, and the scent shouldn't be too much," Veld said, holding it out.

Kunsel weighed his options a moment, then stood and took it before opening it to sniff. Deeming it acceptable, he knelt by where he'd laid Zack down and started carefully lathering him up to get the faint, lingering residue off.

"What about the trooper?" Cissnei asked.

"His name is Cloud, and he's coming too," Kunsel said. "He's Zack's friend."

"Okay," Cissnei said softly. "We'll get him next. Maybe one of your friends can help and you can sit with Zack."

Kunsel nodded, a jerky sort of gesture that said adrenaline and heightened emotion were making a volatile mix.

There were sudden footsteps and he looked up, making another low sound. Veld looked back and waved sharply. "Vincent found a tech who can help us, it's fine. Finish here."

Kunsel rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to relax, and got back to working Zack over carefully. The second time there were footsteps, he recognized them. "Ask Ky if he found a towel."

"I did," Kythe called, enhanced hearing easily picking it up even through the patter of the shower spray.

"Good." Kunsel jerked his head. "Go get that, Cissnei, I'll finish up here."

She arched a brow, but nodded, getting up and heading back out. She shared a tight smile with Veld, both of them on edge but determined to count their blessings - sure, someone had died, but it wasn't their loss.

Kythe shooed Cissnei out of the way, bumping Veld on his way past. "Hey, I got it. He's not looking half bad for a dead guy."

Kunsel snorted, a shadow of a smirk flitting over his lips, and rose. "Here, give me that."

"Please, you're soaked. Just hold him up and I'll do it and we can try to wrestle him into some clothes."

"Shouldn't be too bad, I brought pajamas," Kunsel said. He hadn't known how Zack would be, beyond _injured,_ and loose clothes would be best for that.

"Yeah, I saw. Why two pair?" Kythe asked.

"One's a lot bigger than the other," Kunsel said. "Which works out, since we've got two people to dress."

"Guess that works out," he agreed. "You ready for the towel? I can hold him and let you do it."

Kunsel considered it, then nodded and stood to get the towel, giving Veld a _look_ until he stepped back out. Then he got to work drying him off, gentle even though it was painfully clear Zack was completely unaware. He tried to remind himself that Zack could have slept through this on a good day, if he was tired enough. He could sleep through anything, unless it triggered his sense of danger.

_Just like he__'s sleeping,_ Kunsel repeated to himself, and tried to ignore the way his throat threatened to close with emotion, the way his chest had gone tight and his eyes burned. _He__'s just sleeping off the mako, just like after a booster shot. God, he's always floppy when he's out. It's fine. He's going to be fine._

"Kunsel?" Kythe sounded like he was repeating himself. He was grateful he couldn't see his eyes. "Hey, why don't you go get that bigger set of clothes and we'll get him dressed, okay? Then you can go take him to the chair in the other room or something."

"Yeah, okay," Kunsel said, voice deceptively even. "That's fine."

He moved mechanically over to where the duffle had been set on the lab table, absently drying his arms before taking the soft clothes back to the little shower area and helping Kythe wrangle him into it. When that was done, he took Zack in his arms, with a huff, grateful for enhanced strength; puns aside, SOLDIERs were denser than they looked, with all that muscle. "I'll go wait in the library. You get Cloud."

"Cloud Strife? The little trooper that -" Kythe cut himself off, nodding. "Yeah, okay. Let me grab somebody. _Ey Silva!_"

Kunsel chuckled and took Zack out, bringing him back to the warmer library and sitting down in the chair with him. He listened to the others moving around, to the vaguely familiar hiss and burble of a mako tank draining - the tech must have actually been good for something after all. He could hear them talking about Cloud but it was background chatter compared to the noise in his head as he looked down at the limp figure in his arms.

Zack was alive. Really and truly alive, with a strong pulse even if it was a little sluggish, no doubt from whatever high grade drugs it took to keep up with a First Class SOLDIER's metabolism. He was alive, and he'd be _safe._ The Turks had kept their word, and he intended to make sure that didn't change. He wasn't sure what was coming next, where to go from there, especially with it just sinking in that Hojo had been a _Director_ and even if he'd deserved it - even if Kunsel still wished he'd done it himself - you didn't just kill a department head with no consequences.

Things were going to have to change. They'd been changing, ever since Genesis had defected two years ago. Losing Sephiroth, nearly losing Zack, was just the last straw. It was too much to take, and he knew he wasn't the only SOLDIER who felt that way. ShinRa had lied to them, and manipulated them, and had been treating them like disposable _tools_ ever since the start of the war. Probably before that, knowing what he did of Sephiroth's background.

They couldn't keep living like this. They _wouldn__'t._ It was too much for anyone to ask. Even Zack, in his endless optimism, would have said it was time to cut ties. They'd talk about it when he woke up.

Because it had to be _when._

To get this close to getting him back, to have him in his arms again, and _not_ get him back for real, was unacceptable. They couldn't be too late.

_Gods please, don__'t let me be too late._


	4. Making Plans

After Cloud was cleaned up and dressed, they called Kunsel in, having found a second lab table and put them both down with a sheet over them. The sight made his skin crawl, but it was clean and the lab tech needed to look at them.

It was clear the man was extremely nervous. Knowing your life literally depended on your performance tended to do that.

"So, uh, they're both highly sedated right now," he said, rubbing his hands together. "The uh… SOLDIER will probably wake up within a half hour unless you administer more, he's… very hard to keep down."

"That's Zack for you," Kythe said. "What about Cloud?"

"The trooper?" He swallowed at the look he was given. "Right. Uh he did _not_ take very well to this. He's got a fairly mild case of mako poisoning, but I mean, that still needs treatment. Proper treatment. He should come out of it just fine with that, I mean, he had a baseline and everything; pre-exposure makes you more sensitive to later-life mako exposure, but if you survive the first twelve hours, it usually means you'll come out of anything mild."

"They passed him up for SOLDIER," Kunsel remembered. "Because of the mako sensitivity?"

"Yeah, probably," he admitted. "It's… I guess you could either say he doesn't take well to it or he takes _too_ well to it? He'd probably accept enhancement like a sponge, physically. It's just the psychological part you have to worry about. But I mean, a good doctor team and you should be fine!"

"We've got those in Midgar," Veld pointed out mildly.

"Because walking right back into the monster's den is the smart thing to do," Kythe drawled.

"We'll see," Kunsel said. "What can we do for them now, so we can move? We can't stay here."

"Well, I mean, I wouldn't -"

"They can be moved." The red-eyed man the others had found in the coffin had introduced himself as 'Vincent' and to judge from his mako glow he knew a thing or two about Hojo's special treatment. He blinked at the man's sputtering, inclining his head. "Mako exposure will not worsen at any faster rate in a transport than laying out on a table. It's entirely unaffected by altitude. It _is_, however, affected by hydration so running an IV on the way is advisable. I assume you're capable?"

"Excuse me, but I don't believe you're the medical professional here," he said, bristling.

"Is he wrong?" Kunsel asked.

"…not entirely, but you're going to want painkillers as well as hydration," the tech said. "And they're still _vulnerable._ It would have been smarter to leave them in the tanks and wait for a proper medical crew to come retrieve them."

"Yeah, see, _ShinRa_ _medical _did this," Kunsel said, and something in his tone took the airs right back out of the technician. "So excuse me if I'd rather listen to a stranger the Turks seem to like instead of someone who thought doing this to them in the first place was even remotely okay."

A ghost of a smile flicked over Vincent's lips before the lower half of his face disappeared in the collar of his mantle. Beside him, Veld smiled faintly. "We'll get the files so we know what's happened. One thing I can say about Hojo, he kept meticulous files on _everything._"

"I'll take the hard drives," Cissnei said.

"Good idea. Vincent and I can collect the rest of his files." He glanced at Vincent. "Including the older projects."

Vincent arched a brow, the lift of his brows decidedly amused at something. "Very well."

"And… we'll stay put?" Kythe said.

"No need to move them until we're ready." Veld looked at the tech. "Get your supplies."

"Do we have _room_ to lay them both down and run two IVs in the back of the transport?" Cissnei asked. "I know we all want out of here as quickly as possible, but we could call someone from the Rakheim outpost and take two vehicles -"

"_We__'re_ not splitting up," Kunsel said immediately.

"It'll be a tight fit, but we can manage in the transport," Veld said. "It's fine."

"I'll go with the tech," one of the SOLDIERs volunteered.

"You do that." Veld nodded. "Vincent?"

Vincent nodded and turned to head further into the library. "They kept things back here. Knowing Hojo, that hasn't changed."

Veld nodded, unable to argue that. Creativity had never been Hojo's forte.

They started looking through the files in silence, sifting through things Veld would probably send people back for later but didn't want to bother with hauling now.

After a bit, Veld felt eyes on him and looked up to meet Vincent's gaze. He arched a brow, prompting.

Vincent watched him a moment longer, letting the silence stretch. "They don't trust you."

"They don't trust ShinRa," Veld said. "And as the Director of the Turks, common opinion is I have 'property of ShinRa' tattooed on my ass."

Vincent snorted. "I'd have paid good money to hear you tell Alex that."

"Please, I have a sense of self preservation," Veld said.

"Sometimes," Vincent said.

"You'd be surprised, these days," Veld said. "I've got a lot more people counting on me now… can't afford to be too reckless."

Vincent hummed thoughtfully, watching him still. "So they're against ShinRa."

"It's complicated," Veld said. "They're from the SOLDIER program that came out of Project J. Enhanced military, pretty much swore themselves to ShinRa. But they've been abused one too many times, and this is the last straw. Something's got to give, or they're leaving, at best."

He nodded. "What are you going to do?"

That was the question, wasn't it? He made a joke out of _property of ShinRa,_ but he'd been marching to their tune for a long time. He'd crossed a lot of lines for them, compromised himself again and again until he was so far down a bloody rabbit hole that he could barely recognize himself some days.

Was there a line left he wouldn't cross? Or maybe that was the wrong question. Was it taken out of his hands entirely by SOLDIER now? He knew he wouldn't pit his department against theirs, even if ordered. There was no winning that fight. Even the army wouldn't win that fight, and they had bigger numbers.

"I think," he said quietly, "I'm going to have to work with them, somehow."

"They're too powerful to subdue, aren't they?" Vincent said. "Hojo's little power fantasy."

Veld snorted. "You're not wrong."

Vincent shook his head. "Perhaps you shouldn't let them stew, then. Young men with too much time to think has never done us any good."

Veld arched a brow. "You say that like you weren't the champion brooder out of the two of us."

"You were a good student," Vincent said, and even if he was teasing the words hit hard. From the way he averted his eyes, he'd noticed.

"I tried," Veld said softly. Leather creaked around his fists, and he was painfully aware of the weight of his prosthetic. The weight of the past.

"I'm sure you did well," Vincent said, just as soft. "You were always a perfectionist."

Veld nodded, and set his papers down. "You're a faster reader than I am anyway. Go ahead and keep sorting while I check in with Kunsel. See just what those boys are thinking."

"Good plan," Vincent said. "Those two _will_ need medical care. You may have some leverage."

"For a little while," Veld agreed.

Kunsel was with the other SOLDIER he'd chosen as a sort of SIC for this, the pair bracketing the two lab tables and talking quietly. Enhanced hearing doubtlessly picked up his footsteps - he was making no attempts to hide them - and they both turned to look at him. They weren't openly hostile, at least.

"Found the files?" Kunsel asked.

"Vincent's finishing with that," Veld said. "I thought we should talk about where we're taking things from here."

"You want us to go back to ShinRa," Kunsel said.

"Physically. Long enough to have someone who knows about treating SOLDIERs take a good look at Zack, and a mako exposure expert get a look at Cloud," Veld agreed. "Then, if you want to leave…"

"They're not going to just let us walk out without a fight, and they'll have Zack as leverage," Kunsel pointed out immediately.

"They could try," Veld agreed easily. "I'm not stupid enough to think they could stop all of you."

"They could kill him before we could do anything. He's _vulnerable,_" Kunsel said. "And we don't know what Hojo did to him. He could wake up and be fine, or he could be completely _wrecked._ We don't know that. And I'm not betting his safety on the hope that they'll be sensible."

"Fair enough." Veld sighed. "There's going to be consequences to all this. A director is dead."

"Not that that's _our_ fault, but - and I'm just putting it out there - maybe we shouldn't stop there," Kunsel said flatly. His eyes were still much brighter than Veld was comfortable with, SOLDIER warning lights.

"I am professionally obligated to tell you to watch your mouth," Veld said.

"I am personally obligated to tell you I left my give-a-damn at the door," Kunsel retorted.

"Yeah, not gonna lie, most of us? Pretty done caring what ShinRa thinks," Kythe said. "Even the big bad Turks."

Veld opened his mouth and froze, hearing Vincent clear his throat somewhere behind him. It was going to take a little bit to get used to that deeper register instead of his familiar tenor, but it was still… _him,_ somehow. "_Yes_, Valentine?"

"At the risk of indelicacy, do you want Felicia's files as well?" Vincent asked.

Veld's stomach bottomed out. "_What?_"


	5. Understanding

Veld stared at Vincent, swallowing hard. "_What_ did you say?"

It was very clear when the reality of the situation clicked for Vincent. He held out a thick file without a word, expression somber.

Veld took the file and flipped it open to stare in horror at his daughter's pale, unconscious face, the picture clipped to a project statement - something about _grafting materia _into people - into _living people._ "She didn't die… that _bastard, _she didn't - _he told me -_"

"With all due respect, Veld, when it comes to Hojo… the dead don't always _stay_ dead," Vincent said.

"You think a _technical truth_ helps?" Veld snapped. "That's my _daughter, _Vincent. I have thought she died for _twelve years, _and he…"

"Wonder if the President signed off on _that_ one, too," Kunsel said quietly.

Veld tensed. The President had ordered the Kalm cover up, just like he'd ordered the Nibelheim cover up, only Veld had been in the hospital barely clinging to life at the time. He hadn't been involved, had been deemed _too attached_ to be involved afterward, they'd had Heidegger handle it, and at the time he'd wondered why it hadn't been handed off to Anya, working as his SIC at the time.

Now he knew.

She never would have signed off on this, but _Heidegger__…_

"I think, perhaps, you both have some discussions to have," Vincent said. "Regarding ShinRa."

Veld clutched at the file, then eased up as paper wrinkled in his too-tight grip. He looked at Kunsel, seeing grim understanding there. "…yeah. Yeah we do."

"Then I'll finish gathering the files," Vincent decided. "While you talk."

"No," Veld said. "You get that, Cissnei can help you, while the SOLDIERs sit tight. I've got to make a call, and there's no reception down here."

"Very well." Vincent nodded, and disappeared back into the depths of the library.

"I'll tell Cissnei," Kunsel said. "You go on. We'll talk when you get back. I have a feeling we just got a lot closer to seeing eye to eye."

Veld smiled tightly, inclining his head, and promptly went back into the hall and back up to the manor proper.

He dialed Tseng as soon as he reached the bedroom, voice kept low. He had no doubt that one of the two SOLDIERs Kunsel had left behind to patrol could very well hear him, but it was just instinct at this point. Soon enough, he'd have very little to hide from the SOLDIERs, as far as his motivations and intentions went.

The phone picked up at once; Tseng must have been waiting. "I hope things are well, sir?"

"Not quite," Veld said. "I need you to put the board on a security lock down."

A beat of silence, but Tseng was nothing if not professional. "Consider it done. I don't suppose there are any details of the… threat available, should they ask?"

"Tell them there's been a security breach, and Hojo was found dead in Nibelheim," Veld said. "On that note, we're going to need a competent replacement to handle medical for SOLDIER."

"I see… certain SOLDIERs in particular, sir?" Tseng asked carefully.

"Just one," Veld said. "They recovered Fair. He's stable, but it's hard to say what all's been done."

"Perhaps Professor Rayleigh, from Junon?" Tseng suggested. "She's worked closely with the SOLDIER program, though not with Hojo or Hollander directly."

"Do some checks, I'll trust your judgment on this," Veld said. He had too much on his mind to make the call himself. "Have Maur lock down Hojo's corner of the Science Department, and pull everything from 1990. If he finishes that, comb it for mention of summons."

"As in the materia?"

"As in the materia, yes," he agreed. "There was a project I'm interested in that started in Nibelheim."

"I'll tell him, then," Tseng said. He was silent a moment, and Veld could feel him weighing a question.

As good as he'd trained his second, Veld was pretty sure what that question was, and now wasn't the time for it. "Keep the executives in one place. And call me _immediately_ if it looks like SOLDIER's up to anything. We're on shaky ground right now. I'll update you further in person."

"Of course, sir." Professional as ever, even worried. There was a damn good reason Tseng was his commander. "Anything else?"

There was so much to say… but not here. Not now. "No. We'll be coming straight back, and I'll text you with instructions when we get closer."

"Very well, sir. I'll take care of things, then," Tseng said.

"Thank you, Tseng." Veld smiled faintly and hung up.

He gave himself a moment to breathe. To feel around the ragged edges of a grief that had never really healed, and press a hand to his forehead where a low ache had lodged itself and already started to spread, a tension headache threatening.

Hojo was dead. Which was lucky for him, because he would have done a lot worse than just _shoot_ the madman.

Fair was alive. Which was lucky for _all of them,_ because that meant SOLDIER wasn't going to go on a rampage, unless pushed by outside forces to defend themselves.

_Vincent_ was alive. Which was something he was beyond grateful for, but really hadn't had a chance to process. There, too, was another devastating loss he'd never really dealt with so much as it had been the better part of three decades and eventually pain that sharp turns to numbness.

And Felicia…

He needed to read the file. Felicia _had been_ alive. Was she still alive? Gods, was she _here_ somewhere? Could he, in good conscience, leave without knowing?

And there was bitter, _bitter_ irony that _here_ he was worrying about his conscience, in this frozen hell where ShinRa buried its skeletons _and he__'d helped_. It very nearly made him laugh aloud, lips twisting into a bitter smirk, before he shook his head. He knew the answer already.

If he didn't get Zack and Cloud medical attention - if _something happened_ because they hadn't gotten medical attention soon enough - it was game over. SOLDIER would _lose it_, not that he'd be alive long enough to see it.

Yet again, his family would have to sit on the back burner to his duty as a Turk. Somehow, knowing it was the difference between tentative peace and a bloodbath didn't take the sting away.

He took long enough to text Emma orders to go prep the transport and get confirmation before heading back to the basement. "Vincent and Cissnei done yet?"

"They're still back there," Kunsel said. "Haven't heard more than a few murmurs between them, too quiet to be sure what I'm hearing."

"Who is he, anyway?" Kythe asked.

"My partner," Veld said, smiling thinly at their expressions. "Before your time."

"Hojo said he'd died too, huh?" Kunsel snorted. "He had a _thing_ for that, didn't he?"

"Apparently so," Veld agreed.

They stood in surprisingly companionable silence for a bit, before Kythe said. "So, techie over there's got everything together and has been made aware of the _importance_ of his precision taking care of these two. I don't think we'll have a problem."

Threatened within an inch of his life, then. Well, he hadn't really expected anything less. "I've got Gun warming up the transport for us. As soon as we have the files, we'll go."

"You want us to start moving them and get them settled, then?" Kunsel asked.

He considered it, then nodded. "No reason not to, I don't think they'll be long. Vincent knows what he's looking for, and where to find it. It's not like they have to search the place."

"I'll go get the guys, then," Kythe said. "Another set of hands to help move things."

"Sounds good." Kunsel nodded. He watched him leave, silent a moment. "Director?"

Veld glanced at him. "Yes?"

"I know we didn't exactly start off on the right foot with all this," Kunsel said slowly. "But I think maybe you know where I'm coming from, more than I'd thought."

"Mm." No use denying it. But now wasn't the time for a conversation about his _feelings._ The SOLDIERs had seen him compromised enough. "I'm going to see if I can speed them up. If you're not here when I come out, I'll meet you at the transport."

"I doubt that'll be a speedy process," Kunsel said.

Veld nodded and headed back to where Vincent and Cissnei had amassed an impressive collection of files that she was bagging up. "Hey, chief."

"Found everything?" Veld asked.

"Not having read it all, I couldn't be certain," Vincent said. "I would send someone later to come have a look around. He seems… less organized, than he used to be. Scattered. His handwriting suggests he's been under some stress."

"Understatement," Veld said, waving it off. "I'll brief you later, there's… quite a story."

"Oh you will, will you?" Vincent arched a brow.

Veld paused, mirroring the gesture. "…Cissnei, if you would…"

"Yeah, I'll, ah, take some of these." She hefted one of the packs and quickly saw herself out.

"Just like that, hm?" Vincent said quietly. "Your SOLDIERs aren't the only ones nursing a grudge against ShinRa."

"No, they're not," he said, and had the rare satisfaction of seeing Vincent wince faintly.

"I didn't mean to imply -"

"I know," Veld said.

"I had no idea you didn't know," Vincent said. "I never would have said it like that, had I even _suspected._"

"I know, Vin," Veld said, smiling faintly. "You're oblivious, not cruel."

"You wound me," Vincent deadpanned.

Veld snorted, shaking his head, but his smile faded. "You don't get over losing a child."

Vincent looked away. "I know."

Veld grimaced. "So he was. I wondered."

"…you wondered?" Vincent prompted, glancing back.

Suspicion crept in, because it would just _fit_ the goddamn theme of the day. "Lucrecia died in labor, but the baby made it. I always wondered if he was yours. There was… a lot about him that reminded me of you."

"Is he -" Vincent must have seen it in his eyes, his own closing. "I see."

"I'm sorry," Veld said. "If anyone could get it, Vincent, I get it."

Vincent nodded. "I skimmed the file. I knew you wouldn't have time, with the SOLDIERs. While there isn't definitive proof that she's alive, I notice a _distinct_ lack of mention of death."

Veld held up a hand. "Don't. Not… not right now. I'll deal with that when I can, but not right now. I have a duty."

Vincent smiled wryly. "I taught you a little too well."

"More on Alex than you. I remember more than one reprimand for you putting people ahead of duty," Veld said. "You knew when to be selfish."

"It got me killed," Vincent said.

"Trying to protect someone you love isn't selfish," Veld said. "Asking someone to go somewhere they're uncomfortable with just because you're terrified of losing them again might be."

Vincent softened a little. "I can't promise to stay."

"Just a little longer," Veld said softly. "Until I can get you a phone. Please, Vincent."

Vincent watched him a moment. "What would you do, if I said no?"

"Are you going to make me find out?" Veld asked.

For a long moment, Vincent was silent. Long enough that dread began to sink its icy claws into Veld's gut. Because he had learned early on, there were very few people in the world capable of making Vincent Valentine do something he didn't want to do.

Then Vincent smiled. "I know better than to let you get creative."

_Oh thank the gods._ Veld smiled crookedly. "Thank you."


	6. Negotiations

It was packed in the transport, with two beds, four SOLDIERs, four Turks, and a very reasonably nervous lab technician, but they were heading for Midgar and that was what counted. Cissnei had taken over corresponding with Tseng, which freed Veld up to have a very important conversation.

"Kunsel."

This time, the eyes that looked up at him were mostly blue. There was still green - he was still wound tighter than a ten day clock - but the fury had eased tremendously, leaving the less volatile anxiety behind. He could work with that. "Yeah?"

"What would it take to make SOLDIER stay with ShinRa?" Veld asked. "In your opinion."

Kunsel blinked at him, clearly taken aback. "I… well, I mean, getting rid of Hojo was a good start. Someone ethical in charge of our medical care would be a nice change."

"Already working on that one. What else?" Veld asked.

"A better director than Heidegger," Kythe said, getting mutters of agreement from the Seconds flanking him. "He hates SOLDIER, always has. He uses us like fodder."

"Reasonable." Veld thought it over quickly. He was going to be _far_ too busy to take on another department even if they'd accept him, but maybe… _oh she__'ll kill me for this…_ "Anya Torvik."

Kunsel arched a brow. "Your boss Turk in Junon?"

"She was with Security before the Turks even properly existed," Veld said, ignoring Vincent's sharp look. "She's got a good relationship with your Junon branch, and I know she covered for Lazard more than once."

Kunsel was clearly considering it, which was promising. "I can't make that call on my own."

"But you'd consider it," he pressed.

"Let me ask around," Kunsel said.

"I can call Nikolas later," Kythe offered. "He's worked with her first hand."

"Good idea, do that," Kunsel said. "I'm not exactly eager to have a Turk in charge of SOLDIER, but it's better than _Heidegger._"

"I thought so," Veld agreed. "What else?"

Because he knew there was at least one more sticking point. They weren't the only ones thinking it.

Still, Kunsel hesitated. Looked at the other SOLDIERs.

Looked down at his soulmate, still in a way Zack Fair _never_ was.

"I can't work for someone who would sign off on this," Kunsel said quietly. "Someone who would create an environment so cutthroat that our commanders would rather die than risk being put down for daring to be less than perfect. And don't tell me that's not exactly what would have happened if they'd come to ShinRa for help. Most of us signed up during the war, we can't complain about that even if we didn't know what we were getting into. But damn it, we were _loyal_, and they just… throw it away, at every turn, the moment it suits them."

Veld didn't lie to him. "So, you want the President out of the picture."

Kunsel shrugged. "I mean, in an ideal world where I felt safe staying in ShinRa yeah. He'd be gone."

Veld nodded thoughtfully.

Kunsel eyed him shrewdly. "…you're actually considering it."

Veld smiled thinly, and it wasn't a pleasant smile. "What was it you said about us understanding each other now?"

Kunsel's smile wasn't any nicer. "Yeah, okay. Then I think maybe we could work together on this."

"I think that's a very good idea," Veld said. "For now, though, you worry about your soulmate. Professor Rayleigh will meet us when we touch down in Midgar and he and Cloud will be moved to the ICU under Turk guard, and whatever SOLDIERs you deem necessary."

Kunsel stared at him a moment before his posture slowly melted in relief. "Alright… thanks, Director."

A low groan interrupted anything else as Zack shifted slightly.

"Babe?" Kunsel leaned forward immediately, stroking Zack's cheek. "Hey…"

His eyes moved rapidly under his lids a moment before they opened slightly, discreetly taking in his surroundings. Then they opened, confusion clear on his face. "…_Kuns?_"

"Guess I get to be the hero this time, huh?" Kunsel took his hand, squeezing it tight.

The confusion didn't ease up in the slightest. "I… but I thought…"

"We're about a half hour away from Nibelheim and a very, very dead Hojo," Kunsel said softly. "We got you and Cloud out. You're safe now."

"Hojo's _dead?_" Zack breathed. "Wait, Cloud? Where is he? Oh god, Kunsel, he hasn't _moved -_"

"Easy, easy. We're going to get him help," Kunsel promised. "Real help. And the guys and I will be there the whole time to make sure nothing happens to you, okay? You'll never be alone. Not again."

Zack swallowed hard, clearly overwhelmed, and tried to sit up. He immediately gasped, a hand going to his chest, fluttering over the stitched incision. "Forgot about that."

"Yeah, well, I'm kinda glad about that," Kunsel admitted. "It led me to you."

Zack stared at him, horrified. "…I… am very conflicted right now."

"That's okay. I can do the optimism for us, too," Kunsel said.

Zack laughed weakly. "Gonna be busy, huh?"

"For you? Anything," he said softly, squeezing his hand. "I've got a lot to catch you up on. But for right now, just know you're safe."

He nodded tiredly, closing his eyes. "Okay… where are we going?"

"Midgar," Kunsel said, immediately putting a hand on Zack's shoulder to keep him down when his eyes snapped back open.

"_Kunsel -_"

"I know," he said immediately. "I do, I _know,_ but we've… talked."

"_We? _We _who?_" Zack demanded.

"That would be me," Veld said.

Zack tipped his head, narrowing his eyes. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

"He's the one who brought me to you," Kunsel said.

Zack arched a brow suspiciously. "Why the change of heart?"

"Your soulmate and the rest of SOLDIER collectively threatened to burn ShinRa to the ground," Veld said dryly. "Admittedly, since then I've come to see his point of view."

Zack was momentarily distracted from his outraged suspicion, staring at Kunsel incredulously. "I'm sorry, you _what?_"

"We weren't letting them take anyone else," Kythe said. He grinned cheekily when Zack looked over at him. "Hey. I'd come over but I'm keeping an eye on your buddy."

Zack blinked at him, then pushed Kunsel's hand aside and forced himself upright through gritted teeth.

Kunsel cringed, pressing a hand to his chest. "_Damn it,_ Zack. That does not feel healed enough for you to be moving."

"First Class healing. If it hasn't killed me yet, it's not gonna," Zack said, looking around a moment. He paused, staring at Vincent. "…you're the guy from the coffin."

"I suppose I was, yes," Vincent agreed.

"The director's partner, apparently," Kythe said. "Hojo's got a freaking _list_ of not-really-dead people."

Zack arched a brow. "You, uh, look really good for your age."

Vincent snorted, and Kunsel groaned. "_Zack._"

"You know I love you best, Kuns," Zack said.

"Yeah, yeah, don't think you can charm your way out of this. Lay down, that _hurts._" Kunsel tugged his shoulder gently, relaxing a little once Zack finally laid back down. "_Thank you._"

"You got it." Zack reached for his hand, squeezing it. "So… SOLDIER and the Turks, huh."

"SOLDIER and the Turks," Kunsel agreed.

"I mean, I'm thankful for the save, _seriously,_ I just… didn't expect that." Zack attempted to look back at Veld.

Veld glanced their way. "Maybe it's time the Turks take a stand for what's right, instead of what's ordered."

"Change who's giving the orders and you won't have that problem," Kunsel pointed out.

Veld sighed quietly. "Can't argue that."

"You can't tell me you _like_ him," Kunsel said. "Especially after, you know."

Veld's lips pursed; Vincent or Felicia, it didn't matter which one Kunsel meant. "No. No that wasn't precisely endearing."

"Somehow, I'm not picturing you planning to have the board vote him out," Zack said.

Veld arched a brow. "No, I'm not."

"That would be a temporary measure at best," Vincent said. "Rupert Shinra is an extremely resourceful man, and I imagine if he's still in power there are those who _like it that way._ They would fight to restore the status quo, perhaps by force."

"Including the man in charge of ShinRa's largest military force, yes," Veld agreed. "Most of who are practically conditioned to follow him blindly."

"So, kill him and the VP gets a promotion, huh?" Kunsel hummed. "We could try negotiations."

"Rufus would do a lot to keep the company intact and in power," Veld said. "He's been furious about his father 'running it into the ground' lately."

"A good sign," Kunsel said. "I'm willing to see. If we have new medical staff, and someone trustworthy in place of Heidegger… we could work with that."

Veld nodded. "You know my suggestions."

"Yeah, I do. I'll talk with the others about it," Kunsel said. "I can't make that call alone."

"We've got pretty much everyone on high alert waiting for communications, so that won't be hard," Kythe said. "I think the _option_ to retire in peace would sweeten the deal, though."

Veld nodded. He understood that all too well. Being a Turk was too much of his identity to think he'd ever change completely - even _if_ he defected, he'd likely stay in the information business if nothing else. Gods know there was a market for it. But the _option_ to retire was overdue for both departments. And he wanted that for his Turks, even if he was loathe to lose any of them. "I think that can be arranged. Like I said, Rufus would do a lot to keep his forces together, including making sure they're happy."

"You've talked to him about it?" Kunsel asked.

"He's mentioned it would be better to keep people emotionally motivated than monetarily motivated," Veld said. "There comes a point when you can't buy loyalty."

"Yeah," Kunsel said. "I hear that."

"Most of us weren't in it for the paycheck," Zack said. "I wasn't the only one who wanted to be a hero, you know? I know, a lot of you guys thought it was silly. And it was. But that was the dream. And I think… without dreams, it's a lot harder to justify the stuff life puts you through. Everyone needs something to hold on to. Something that makes it _worth it._"

Kunsel squeezed his hand, smiling softly. "What we need is someone like you, to remind us."

Zack smiled back, clasping his hand between his own. "You've got me, babe. I'm not going anywhere."

Kunsel's smile gained a fierce edge. "I'll make _sure_ of it."


	7. Decisions, Decisions

Several hours later and they were finally coming into Midgar, where a small medical team was waiting with Tseng and Balto. Someone - probably Tseng - had made the decision to tell him about all this, and that was something Veld was going to have to address eventually. Last he'd checked, Balto and Zack hadn't been in any sort of contact, but they _were_ some shade of cousin and it was clear from the rare look of anxious anticipation on the senior Turk's face that he still cared deeply.

"Alright, let's get Cloud and Zack on stretchers and then we can all get moving," Veld said. "Let medical in, everybody out of the way."

"Where are my patients?" A petite brunette slipped in, blue eyes locking immediately on Zack and Cloud. "_Ah._ Alright. I don't suppose anyone can fill me in on what's happened?"

"Uh, I can? Mostly?" The tech offered quietly.

"We have their files," Veld said. "To be kept confidential, of course."

"I do understand doctor-patient confidentiality, Director," she said. She smiled when she realized Zack was awake. "Amber Rayleigh. I'll be overseeing your care with the help of a small team. I've spoken with SOLDIER First Class Morrison already and he's arranged for a SOLDIER rotation to be cleared on guard."

Zack relaxed a little. "Yeah? Okay… that works. Haven't seen him in a while."

"I'm coming with them," Kunsel said immediately.

"They're soulmates," Veld said.

Understanding lit her eyes. "_Ah,_ I see. Well, I do my best not to separate soulmates. But you'll have to clean up, first. I'm not sure _what _you have on you, but you're not bringing that into my ICU."

"Mako solution," Kunsel said, not caring to elaborate that he'd broken Zack out of a tank by force. He was sure it would come up later, in front of less people.

Rayleigh arched a brow. "…I see. Well you are most definitely not coming into medical like _that._ Go home, shower properly, change and come back down and someone will bring you to them."

"Hey if you go back to our place, can you bring me one of my SOLDIER hoodies and those black running pants?" Zack asked.

Bless him, he always knew what to say to take the sting out of a shitty situation. Kunsel smiled fondly. "If that's what you want, sure."

"And a good pillow? I'm sorry but the pillows in medical suck. They've sucked since I was in bootcamp," Zack said.

Kunsel chuckled. "Yeah, I can bring you your pillow, too."

"Awesome, thanks babe." Zack hooked his fingers in Kunsel's suspenders and tugged him down to kiss his cheek. "Love you."

Kunsel swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat, turning to catch his lips, just a bare brush of a kiss. "Love you too. I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?"

"I know you will." Zack smiled softly. "You're always there."

"_Always,_" Kunsel promised.

"Hey, I'll go with him," Kythe said. "Silva and Drake can go talk to Morrison until I get there."

"I can call him on my way," Kunsel said. "They can go with you until another shift gets there."

"Guys -" Zack started.

"It has been _three weeks,_ I thought you were _dead,_" Kunsel said quietly, immediately shutting him up. "You're getting a guard. More than Turks."

Zack closed his mouth with an audible click of teeth, stricken. He swallowed hard, wetting his lips. "…okay."

There was a moment's pause before Rayleigh cleared her throat. "The sooner we all get going, the sooner we can get settled."

Zack took Kunsel's hand again, squeezing it hard. "Go on. They'll keep me safe."

"On my _life,_ Kunsel," Kythe said. "You know it."

Kunsel nodded, kissing Zack's forehead and slipping past the doctor and the medical team as they moved in. If he didn't go now, he wouldn't be able to talk himself into it.

Zack was subdued right up until they got out onto the airstrip and he caught sight of a man who was shockingly familiar, down to the slicked back spikes and scar of mourning on his cheek. "_Balto?_"

Balto smiled a touch sheepishly, nodding. "Hey, cousin."

"What the everloving _hell,_ man? Since when are you… where did you _come from?_ We had a funeral and everything!" Zack said, stunned.

"Director took me off death row," Balto said quietly. "I laid low on a covert field assignment for quite a while."

"And you didn't think to look me up? I haven't exactly been _subtle,_" Zack said. "Like, literally everybody in SOLDIER knows who I am."

"I don't exactly travel in those circles," Balto said.

"You're a freakin' _Turk,_ information is your goddamn _day job,_" Zack snapped. "Get over here."

Balto came over to the stretcher, and made a startled sound when he was hauled down by his tie into a hug. "Zack?"

"We are having _words,_" Zack informed him. "You're coming?"

"Yeah, I was cleared to be part of your guard," Balto said.

"Perfect. Okay. Let's get out of here."

* * *

Kunsel scrubbed down until his skin tingled, admittedly grateful to get rid of the cloying scent of mako and the tacky feeling of it dried on his arms. But he hurried, because every moment away from Zack grated on him. He couldn't shake the feeling that if he was away too long, he'd be gone again, and every little stab of pain had him wanting to reach for his phone to call Kythe, even though realistically he knew it was just them having Zack move or twist or sit up in a way that pulled on his injury.

But he also had a job to do, a job that would make sure they _all_ were safe, so as soon as he got out he called Drew Morrison, the First that had been recalled to Midgar right after the Nibelheim Incident to try to get _some_ semblance of authority they could accept, and a buffer between the department and Heidegger's ham handed control.

He'd half wished someone had gotten a hold of Benji Richards. The man had served with Sephiroth _and_ Genesis in Wutai, and it showed.

"Hey, Drew," Kunsel said. "Mission complete."

"Yeah, I heard Zack's in the ICU," Drew said. "I'm kind've surprised you brought him back to medical in ShinRa."

"Yeah well… Hojo's dead," Kunsel said.

A beat of silence. "You killed him?"

"No, Veld got in the way, and then one of _his_ friends who looks like he has reason to carry a grudge did it while I was in the other room," Kunsel said. "_Red_ mako eyes, doesn't look a day older than Sephiroth, but was apparently Veld's partner back in the day. There's a story there."

Drew whistled. "Yeah, I guess so. But who knows what all that freak got up to. I'm glad he's gone, _whoever_ did it. You think they'll try to pin it on you?"

"No," Kunsel said. "So, uh. Apparently on top of whatever went down with his partner, Hojo did something to Veld's daughter. He's a lot more sympathetic to our cause now."

"…that'd do it," he agreed. "So what's that mean for us, in practical terms?"

"He said he'll see about getting Heidegger out of SOLDIER, and he suggested his head Turk from Junon," Kunsel said. "At least temporarily."

"Who, Torvik?" He hummed. "I've worked with her a little. She was always upfront, even about something being classified. A little blunt, but that's not a bad thing, alternative considered. _Extremely_ good at running herd on… pretty much the whole base, except when one of the directors was literally there. I think the only people she didn't unofficially oversee was City Planning."

"So you think she would be tolerable," Kunsel said.

"Sure as hell a step up from the pig," Drew said.

"That's not exactly a high bar," Kunsel said. "Okay, talk with the guys, see if enough people are on board that we could go with that."

"You think the _President_ would go with that?" Drew said.

"That's the other thing," Kunsel said. "He's pretty sure the President's got to go."

"…Turk style 'go'?"

"Turk style go," Kunsel agreed, darkly amused. "And promote the VP. Apparently he thinks Rufus would be motivated to try and keep us happy, if it means keeping us on the payroll. _Especially_ since he's going to have to work with the Turks."

"If Faraman's serious about working with us, we have a lot of collective bargaining power," Drew mused. "That might work. Who's he suggest in Hojo's place?"

"A doctor from Junon, Amber Rayleigh. She's seeing to Zack personally right now, so I'm thinking I'm going to get a firsthand opinion real quick," Kunsel said.

"Alright… tell you what, you give me a couple hours to get ahold of Benji and Nikolas, and we'll all run it through the ranks," Drew said. "See if that's a compromise we can work with."

"What do you think?" Kunsel asked. "I know I'm biased. Zack needs people who know the SOLDIER program right now. I just don't know if that's the best thing in the long run."

"Personally, I think defecting now might be premature," Drew said. "We can always leave later. Mending bridges is harder than burning them."

"Fair point," Kunsel said. "Thanks, Drew."

"Anytime, Kunsel," he said. "We've got each other's backs. You just keep an eye on Zack, and keep me updated on the Turks."

"Will do."


	8. Rise Against the Odds

Veld stayed with Balto outside Zack and Cloud's room in the ICU until Cissnei returned, having had to clean up herself after helping clean Zack up back at the manor. He waited a little longer until Kunsel was there, glad to see that other than some understandable anxiety he seemed much, much less wound up. "Talked to the other SOLDIERs?"

"Yeah, they're going over things now," Kunsel said. "I'll let you know when we've made a decision, if Morrison doesn't call you himself."

Veld nodded. "Then I think I'm going to go have a word with my operatives."

"And the VP?" Kunsel said.

"Probably," he said. "Even if you decide this doesn't work for you, I think that's the best for us."

Kunsel nodded. "I can respect that. Good luck."

"Thanks." Veld smiled faintly and ducked out with a wave to Cissnei, who was currently standing guard outside since Zack had called Balto back in.

Then it was back to the Turk floor. He managed not to startle when Vincent was suddenly beside him when he rounded a corner towards the elevator, arching a brow. "Not a fan of medical these days?"

Vincent gave him a flat look.

Veld smiled faintly, leading them into the elevator and swiping his key card. "Sure about contained spaces?"

"You could fit five or six people in here, it's fine," Vincent said. "Besides, there's a vent."

"You're not that tall, Vin," Veld said.

"I don't think that matters," he said.

Veld glanced at him, arching a brow, but he didn't elaborate and it wasn't worth bothering. "I'll get you that phone after I talk with my people and dig up an instruction manual. Does the gold thing come off, or…?"

"It's a gauntlet, I can feel the arm," Vincent said.

"So you have use of both hands, if necessary," Veld said.

"…maybe," Vincent said. Again, he didn't seem to care to elaborate.

Again, Veld didn't press. "You can work it one-handed."

"Let me see yours?" Vincent asked.

Veld debated it, before pulling it out and holding it out to him.

Vincent took it delicately in his gloved hand, rubbing his thumb along the case before flicking it open. "…I could snap this in half, if I wasn't careful."

Veld considered that. "We'll get you something SOLDIER issued and tweak it to Turk standard, then."

"Appreciated." Vincent handed it back. "You mentioned Anya."

"She's the only one of us still around," Veld said. "Stays over in Junon and runs the academy for me."

"It'd be quite a loss, to move her to SOLDIER," Vincent mused.

"It's a blow I'm willing to take, to keep them," Veld said. "Knowing her, she'd find a way to stay involved anyway, just with _two_ branches."

Vincent snorted. "That sounds like her."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, exiting to a floor that really hadn't changed so much in the past couple decades other than a technology upgrade and more desks. Most of them were full now, and every head went up when they heard him. He saw more than one curious glance at Vincent, but they all looked back to him. Waiting for orders.

Veld smiled faintly and moved to a better position for them all to see him. "There's going to be some changes around here. I want this kept in the full ranks, don't go spreading this down to the rookies yet unless it's someone you're _specifically_ training."

He saw Reno clap Rod on the back of the neck, the former gang leader sitting up and paying closer attention, waiting to hear what had happened. What was _going _to happen.

And he told them. He told them how Fair and Strife had actually lived and been handed over to Hojo, and how Kunsel had found out and how SOLDIER had collectively issued an ultimatum. Then he told them, if an abbreviated version, about Vincent. And about Felicia. And about how, frankly, he was unable to personally turn a blind eye to what ShinRa was asking them to do any longer.

And when he was done, and he looked at them, he saw nothing but determination.

"What do you need us to do?" Tseng asked.

* * *

It didn't take long to organize his team. They were like a well-oiled machine, ever ready for action, and even when given an out they were all immediately on his side without hesitation.

_Turks take care of their own,_ he'd been told when he'd joined. And they did.

They were a small group, but not without allies. SOLDIER was a new alliance, tentative and untried, and he wasn't ready to count on that even if he wanted to. He spent less than ten minutes explaining things to Anya over the phone, getting the unconditional support he knew she'd give him even if he had the distinct feeling that having her on the board of directors was a headache waiting to happen.

But then he was left having to move this plan forward. Because there really was no other option; for them to succeed, Rupert had to go. Even if he agreed to their terms, none of them trusted him after everything he'd authorized.

He should have been ashamed of how easy it was to decide to end a man's life in cold blood. But that, too, was Rupert's fault.

He wasn't sure he wanted to approach Rufus right away, though. Once upon a time he'd practically been a father figure to the boy, but the last few years he'd been increasingly tied up, first with having to increasingly provide intel for SOLDIER and the army in the war, then with the sudden uptick in gang activity that led to the birth of AVALANCHE. And part of him - a large part - felt guilty for neglecting him, because gods knew there was no love lost between father and son.

So instead, he went to speak with someone he'd worked closer with. Someone he'd known even longer. Someone who might know Rufus better than he did, now.

Reeve was, as he always was when he was in Midgar, to be found in his office. This time, he was at his drafting table instead of buried under the endless paperwork that running a city produced. He looked up with a smile when Veld entered that quickly began to fade as something in his manner tipped him off that something wasn't right. "Veld?"

"We need to talk," Veld said quietly.

Reeve arched a brow, but obediently set his pencil and ruler aside and went over to his desk, triggering the security protocols that would scramble even Turk recording devices. Veld would have been irritated if he hadn't developed the technology at his request. "What can I do for you?"

"Zack Fair's alive." He saw the moment the wheels started turning there. "And Hojo's dead."

"Do we have another pending defection?" Reeve asked carefully.

"Maybe." Veld sighed, settling into a chair when Reeve sat in his own. "They're pissed as hell, obviously. But there's… a tentative agreement that should a few key things change, they might be willing to stay on."

"They want an independent department again, I'm sure," Reeve said.

"I'm thinking of putting Anya there," Veld said.

Reeve stared at him. "_Anya?_ You have four Firsts to pick from and your first thought is to ask _Anya, _when she didn't even want to be Director of Administrative Research? Are you sure she won't kill you?"

"She's not happy about it, but with any luck it's a temporary measure, and they'll be able to be trained into self-sufficiency," Veld said.

Reeve shook his head. "The President will never… _oh._"

It said a lot about the influence he'd had on the younger man that he put it together so quickly, Veld thought.

"Oh, _Veld._" Reeve pressed his palms together, resting his chin on his fingers and staring at him. "Does Rufus know?"

"I haven't talked to him yet," Veld admitted. "We've… been out of sync for a while. I was wondering if you might have some insight on his current headspace."

"I mean, he hates Rupert. He's hated Rupert since he was a child," Reeve said.

"He's not exactly been happy with me lately, either," Veld said.

"He never hated you, Veld, even when you make him angry," Reeve said. "But I will admit he's been… odd, lately."

Veld arched a brow. "Odd how?"

Reeve sighed, shaking his head. "Mood swings. Sometimes he's cagey and distracted, frustrated with how things are going more than anything, I think, but sometimes he does seem genuinely happy with his position."

"I suspect he'd be even happier in the President's chair," Veld said.

"Do you think he's ready?" Reeve asked.

"Odd question for a man who took over City Planning at eighteen," Veld said. "He's been groomed for this even more than you were."

"I suppose he has," Reeve agreed.

"But you still have reservations," Veld observed.

Reeve made a frustrated sound. "It's silly."

"Talk to me, Reeve," Veld said.

"I can't even tell you what it is, I just…" Reeve sighed. "I shouldn't doubt him. He _has_ been trained for this, and there's nothing he wants more than to take ShinRa over and watch it flourish."

"But?"

"But..." Reeve shook his head. "I don't know, Veld. Something just doesn't sit right."

Veld hummed thoughtfully. Reeve had excellent instincts when it came to insights about a person's character. To hear him be hesitant about _Rufus,_ when they'd both been holding out hope for so long for the day Rufus finally took over, was a bit of a shock. "You have no idea?"

"None," he said. "It's just a gut feeling."

Veld rubbed his mouth. "I can't base my actions on a gut feeling, Reeve, but I'll keep it in mind."

"He's our best bet, I know," Reeve said. "He's still a step up. I know that. I _believe_ that."

"Then that will have to be enough," Veld said. "I'll speak with him."


	9. The King-to-Be

Rufus fortunately had a rare day off, and with the lockdown he hadn't been able to go far, his guard reporting him to be in his apartment. Charles had been briefed about the situation with Zack and SOLDIER, but not the full situation with how they were going to go forward, given he needed to be focused on his job.

This conversation was going to be quite enlightening.

Rufus had set out a carafe of coffee in the living room, and gave him an interested look when he entered. "It's been a while since we've just _talked._ Somehow I suspect this isn't a drop in for casual conversation."

"No," Veld admitted, taking the seat he was offered. "…I'm sorry about that."

Surprise was there and gone in a flash through pale blue eyes, before Rufus was waving it off. "It's fine, we're both busy men these days. I don't suppose this is anything about that lockdown you've had us on? I've had to spend my entire day off on base because Nunchaku won't let me out the door."

"An executive was killed, Rufus," Veld said.

"And what, you think one of us will be next?" He scoffed. "This isn't some backwater laboratory, Veld, this is ShinRa's crown jewel."

"What would you say if I told you I knew someone would?" Veld asked.

Rufus arched a brow. "Then I'd ask you if your team is suddenly on holiday. Or is the old man nursing a grudge I don't know about?"

"Not your old man," Veld said.

A slow, wickedly delighted smile curved Rufus' lips. "Oh _really._ Something get under your skin, Veld? Heidegger make another power grab? Scarlet's machines maul one of your Turks?"

"Higher." He could tell when it dawned on Rufus, his jaw going slack, and for a moment he genuinely looked his age.

"You're going to _assassinate_ the _President?_" Rufus said incredulously. "Not that I mind the promotion, but where the _hell_ did that come from? What was the final straw?"

"There are some personal reasons, but of more immediate concern, it's the only way we're going to be able to keep SOLDIER," Veld said.

"…we're looking at another defection?" Rufus said. "What for? Sephiroth burnt down Nibelheim and got himself killed, that's not our fault."

"Rupert let Hojo have Zack Fair to experiment with," Veld said.

Rufus stared at him. "Zack Fair."

"Yes."

"The _extremely popular _First Class - the _best_ First Class we have left," Rufus said.

"Yes."

"The prodigy Hewley bought up that the public absolutely adores," Rufus said.

Veld smiled faintly at his increasingly flat tone. "Yes, that Zack Fair."

"And he just… threw that away," Rufus said. "So Hojo could have a new toy to make up for Sephiroth going off the deep end like Hewley and Rhapsodos did."

"He did," Veld agreed.

"What the _hell_ was he _thinking?_" Rufus said. "Gods, no _wonder._ They killed Hojo?"

"No, that was Vincent," Veld said.

Rufus blinked, blanking on the name. "Vincent?"

"Valentine."

More staring. "Your partner was dead, Veld."

"He got better," Veld said dryly.

"I… he _got better?_" Rufus repeated incredulously. "What kind of _dead_ do you _get better _from?"

"The Hojo kind, apparently," Veld said.

Rufus arched a brow, and for lack of anything to say to that reached for his coffee to take a long sip. When he'd gained a bit of composure, he said, "So this _is_ personal."

"I never said it wasn't," Veld said.

Rufus hummed, shaking his head. "Well. You have my support, of course. I'll play the part of the shocked, grieving son for the press. Does he get a list of his crimes before he dies, or are you making it quick?"

Veld arched a brow. "I don't remember you being this bloodthirsty."

Rufus smiled in a way that would have been charming, if his eyes hadn't been so cold. "I'm not going to lie, Veld, I would have been happy if you weren't quite so good at your job."

Veld wondered, not for the first time, if Rupert knew what sheer _venom_ his neglect and ill treatment had built up in his son. He didn't remember it being this bad. Rufus had said he'd wished his father had died before, but usually in the context of missing his mother, or after a fight. This was clear, cold blooded _hate. _What did you say to that? "Rufus…"

He waved it off almost lazily, smiling. "Don't mind me. Besides, doesn't it make your job easier? No guilt for orphaning me."

"I suppose so," he said. What else could he say to that?

"So, all nice and neat," Rufus said. "Just the way you like it."

"If it goes according to plan, yes," he said. "The board will want to have an investigation, of course."

"Please, you hide information as well as you uncover it," Rufus said. "And besides, who will be asked to _do_ the investigation?"

Veld chuckled softly. "That's what I'm counting on."

"Well there you have it, then," Rufus said. "I look forward to seeing your plan to fruition, and will see about putting my affairs in order so I'm ready. I'll even prepare a little… welcome home arrangement for Fair. I won't make the mistakes the old man did; we're not losing any more SOLDIERs."

Veld nodded, privately relieved. "Good. I'll pass your willingness to collaborate along."

"But of course," Rufus said. "I'm not an _idiot._"

"Thankfully not," he agreed.

"Well. I suppose I ought to let you get on with it then, shouldn't I?" Rufus said. "Busy man. I _would_ like to meet Valentine at some point."

"I'm sure you will," Veld said, hesitating a moment before rising. He needed to make some time just to sit down and catch up with Rufus later; at this point he was the closest thing to a healthy father figure he _had,_ and no matter how little interest he professed to have in such things, it _was_ important. Maybe with Rupert out of the picture it could even make a difference.

But for now, he really did have business to take care of. Sentiment, once again, would have to wait. "Take care, Rufus."

"Of course, Veld. You know me." Rufus smiled. "I'm very good at looking out for my own interests."

Veld saw himself out, nodding to Charles as he passed him in the hall, pausing as the door closed. "Put up some extra security, would you?"

Charles arched a brow. "Protecting our investments, hm?"

"There's people who won't be happy about this," Veld said. "He'll be more of a target than he's been in his life." And he wasn't going to lose him, too.

"You got it, chief." He saluted him. "I'll be discreet so he doesn't mess with it."

"…good idea." Rufus had never cared for being monitored, even by the Turks, and he was good enough with tech to be a problem. Veld still remembered him as a teenager, hacking the security feeds because he was _bored._

"Yeah, I thought so." Charles chuckled. "So, uh, who do I talk to to get that whole story in more detail?"

"Tseng can brief you if you swing by the office later," Veld said. "I'm sure he'll be in."

"With all this, I'm sure you'll both be _living_ there," he said knowingly.

"Just long enough to get things sorted," Veld said. However long _that_ took.

Admittedly, that could be a while yet.

Charles had been a Turk long enough to know the same thing. "Uh _huh._ You do that."

Veld shook his head, amused by the subtle fussing, and patted his shoulder. "Be on your guard. I'll send your replacement out for night shift and you can pop back by the office."

"I'll be looking forward to it," Charles said. "And order in some… things, in the meantime, to handle observation."

"Good idea." Veld headed for the elevator, relieved to have gotten that conversation out of the way. It had gone about how he'd expected, and later he could at least tell Reeve that he hadn't picked up anything from Rufus that didn't make sense for his circumstances. He was lonely, and chafing under his father's heavy handed control when he wanted room to come into his own as a young man.

Half of that was about to be fixed very quickly, and he'd make sure, when things settled, to spend more time with him. In the meantime, he'd suggest the same to Reeve. They'd been close as children, it was a shame to let that fall away just because Rupert wanted to control them both.

But things weren't settled yet, far from. He still had to decide on who was delivering the final blow, and how. He had a fairly good idea of the best way to handle that, much as he'd like to do it personally, but that meant having a little conversation with Vincent.

Somehow, he didn't suspect any objections.

* * *

Rufus sipped his coffee slowly, not really tasting it as his mind went into overdrive. After all his work, he was practically being _handed_ the Presidency on a silver platter, with full support of the Turks and apparently SOLDIER. In fact, _by_ the Turks, and _because of_ SOLDIER. It didn't get any better than that.

There was just one tiny complication.

He was going to have to get rid of Fuhito, _fast._


	10. Alliance of Convenience

Kunsel was relieved when Zack and Cloud were quickly cleared out of the ICU to the regular part of the med ward. Of course, Zack had raised a grand royal _fuss_ to get to stay with Cloud, but all it had really taken was seeing the way his eyes went overbright with panic at the thought of separation for any length of time. Given what they'd been through together, Kunsel didn't want Zack dealing with waking up without knowing immediately where he was.

He liked Cloud, honestly. They'd had him over to the apartment once and he'd been ridiculously shy until Zack had managed to tease and poke him out of his shell enough to swat back. From then on, it had been fun.

They'd have that again.

Rayleigh had mostly handed them over to one of her nurses while she worked on making sense out of Hojo's notes, a man named Jack Hughes. He was built more like a SOLDIER than a medic, but had a laid back, playful bedside manner that put Zack at ease, and for that alone he'd have liked him.

The problem, of course, was a relaxed Zack was suddenly a very restless Zack, because Zack Fair did not know the meaning of still.

"Kunsel I'm _bored._" Zack groaned. "Bed rest _sucks._"

"You know what sucks? Torn stitches suck," Kunsel said.

"Kunse_eeeeeeel._"

"I asked the guys to bring you some puzzles, you big baby, quit whining," Kunsel said, reaching over and mussing his hair affectionately before resting his palm on his forehead. He'd been running a low grade fever since shortly after they'd gotten to Midgar, which Rayleigh said was his body detoxing from all the drugs Hojo had him pumped with.

"Mmmm…" Zack closed his eyes with a sigh. "Howzit?"

"Still a little bit of a fever," Kunsel said. "How do you feel? For real?"

Zack sighed, shrugging. For someone who was normally an open book, that particular question was like pulling teeth. "I mean, not great?"

"_Zack._"

"The painkillers help," Zack said quietly. "I'm just… tired."

"You've been through a lot," Kunsel said, petting his hair.

"Yeah." He stared blankly at the ceiling a moment before reaching for Kunsel's hand.

Kunsel took it immediately, like he had every time Zack had reached for him, offering him that anchor he needed and didn't know how to ask for. He squeezed it in a silent _'I'm here, I've got you'_ and leaned against the bed a little, ready to stay as long as he could. He'd have crawled in bed with him if he thought he'd get away with it. "Love you, babe."

Zack took in a deep, shuddering breath. "…love you too."

"Always," Kunsel said.

"Yeah." Zack squeezed his hand. "Forever."

Kunsel smiled, squeezing back, though he was distracted by conversation outside.

"Is that Drew?" Zack asked. "Let him in, Balto, I'm awake. I need something to do."

"Awake and whining," Kunsel said, grinning when Drew popped in followed by an unexpected second. "Well I'll be. I thought you were in Wutai."

"I was in Wutai," Benji agreed. "Flew in as soon as I heard."

"Geez, I didn't know you did sweet," Zack said.

"I am a goddamn delight," he said. "So. Drew says we're getting rid of the pig?"

"Wait, are we seriously…? I mean, I thought we were just getting a new director?" Zack said.

"That, yeah." Benji waved. "Oh, here, I brought you mochi."

"…am I allowed to have mochi?" Zack asked.

"Not a clue." He grinned. "But if Professor Batshit didn't kill you, that's not gonna."

"_Benji,_ could you have like, an ounce of tact? Please?" Drew asked. "Sorry, he has no filter."

"No one has a filter after the first ten hours of a flight," Benji said, setting the little box beside the bed. "Seriously though, a new director? I'd take Palmer at this point."

"Torvik, from Junon," Drew said. "Nikolas likes the idea. They've been working together for years."

"Huh." Benji considered that. "Heard she was a real hard case, but fair. I could deal with that."

"Anything's better than someone who hates us," Zack said.

"Yeah." Benji sobered a bit, looking at him. "You okay staying? I mean, even with that, it's still ShinRa."

"I know." Zack sighed, looking down at where Kunsel still had his hand. "And I know Hojo wasn't the only rotten part of the company, either. But with some changes, maybe we could make it what it should have been. What we _thought_ it was, when we joined."

"Yeah well, someone told me it's a lot easier to burn bridges than mend them," Kunsel said. "We can always leave later, if we have to."

"True," Benji agreed. "I still want to have a word with the Turks myself."

"Their director's supposed to be down soon for an update," Kunsel said. "Just stick around."

"Can do."

"I think I will too," Drew said. "I've talked to him some on the phone, but I'd like to get a face-to-face update."

"He's been…" _'Good'_ wasn't quite the word Kunsel wanted, not for someone who had let this happen in the first place. But he'd been… "accommodating."

"He knows which way the wind's blowing," Benji said. "I'd be 'accommodating' too, if it was my ass on the line."

"You'd be contrary to your last breath," Drew said flatly. "But for someone who's got to be pretty strategic, it makes sense, yeah."

"Excuse you." Benji knocked shoulders with him, huffing.

"Here he comes," Drew said abruptly, turning to face the door.

Sure enough, enhanced hearing paid off - Veld came to the doorway, finding himself the focus of four sets of glowing eyes. If it bothered him, you'd never know. "Gentlemen."

"Sir." The two Firsts stepped aside, letting him in before each taking one side of the room. Given the size of the group and the amount of equipment in the room, it was standing room only for the newcomers.

"So, how's… everything?" Kunsel said, not sure what, exactly, was _safe_ to say in their current location.

Veld smirked faintly. "Anya said yes, assuming your department goes along with it. Have you discussed it?"

"General consensus seems to be we'd give her a shot," Drew said. "She's always played it straight with us. She's fair, even when she's hard. We're not afraid of hard work."

"No, but it's hard to work under the resident jackass always undermining us," Benji said.

"Then, when it's time, we'll see that she's put into place," Veld said. "What about Rayleigh?"

"I like her," Zack said. "You said she knows the program too, right?"

Veld nodded. "She's worked with the SOLDIER program fairly extensively from Junon."

"But not with Hojo or Hollander," Kunsel pointed out. "Always a plus."

"No, she was more on the medical side of it than they were," Veld said.

"Great, glad we're getting some competent people in charge," Benji said. "And on the note of _people in charge?_"

Veld arched a brow, smiling faintly. "You just let me handle that."

"Sounds good to me," Zack said.

"How are things here?" Veld asked.

"Eh, I mean, I'd rather be out and about but doc says I've got some recovery to do even once I finish detoxing," Zack said.

"I can imagine," Veld said. He glanced at Cloud, motionless and pale except for a feverish flush across his cheeks. "And your friend?"

"Pretty much what the tech said - mako poisoning." Zack frowned. "Physically, he's adjusting pretty quickly now that there's nothing _else_ being pumped in. It's just a waiting game for him to wake up."

"But she thinks he will?" Veld said.

Zack's frown deepened. "She's not making any promises, based on his rejection from SOLDIER. But he will. He stood up to Sephiroth. A little mako's not going to keep him out."

Veld nodded, not arguing it one way or another. "I look forward to seeing you both back on your feet."

Zack smiled at that, nodding. "Yeah, thanks. Can't wait to get out of this place myself."

"Oh I'm sure. I'm not a fan either," Veld said. "I'll leave you all to discuss things further, then. I just wanted to make you aware everything was still on track as we discussed."

"Thanks for the update," Kunsel said.

"Of course. Just keep it quiet, for now," Veld said.

"Believe me, SOLDIER's not exactly buddy-buddy with anyone else in the company right now," Benji said.

Veld arched a brow. "I guess we'll see how that goes, then."

"An alliance of convenience is as good a start as any," Drew said. "Something we can build on."

That got him a faint smile. "I like to think so."

Drew inclined his head. "We'll be in touch. Take care, Director."

"You too," Veld said, slipping out.

Benji closed the door behind him. "An _alliance of convenience?_"

"If we want this to work, we need each other," Drew said.

"Politics makes strange bedfellows," Kunsel said. "We'll see how it goes. For right now, I think it's our best option. I want it to work."

"We all want it to work, Kunsel," Benji said. "I'm just not betting it will."


	11. Change in Plans

Veld hadn't even made it to the elevator when his phone buzzed once against his chest, then again. Arching a brow, he reached inside his jacket and pulled it out, flipping it open as a third text came through - all from Reeve.

_[Reeve] I need to talk to you._

_[Reeve] We have a problem._

_[Reeve] It's about Rufus._

Veld blinked, feeling a strange shiver of foreboding snake down his spine. He paused in front of the elevator, quickly sending a return text.

_[Veld] Where are you?_

There wasn't more than a couple seconds' pause, and he could picture him pacing with his phone in hand.

_[Reeve] My office. Hurry._

Veld confirmed he was on his way, but didn't ask more. If he wasn't being warned to bring backup, it wasn't necessary yet. Whatever was wrong, Reeve thought it was best to keep quiet. Or leave to his discretion. Either one suited him fine. If there was a problem, he wanted to handle it himself. _Especially_ now.

It wasn't so much that it was a long trip to Reeve's office, as it was that his mind was conjuring up a stream of useless possibilities of what might be wrong. Rufus wasn't hurt, or Charles would have contacted him himself.

…actually, it was rather odd something was up with Rufus and he'd be hearing about it from _Reeve,_ and not Charles. Charles was the one with him. It was clearly implied Reeve had been in his office since he'd left. That _severely_ limited his access to Rufus.

Mind buzzing, he waved absently to Reeve's secretary and let himself in. "Reeve?"

"Close the door," Reeve said quietly. He was in the back by his drafting table, but the lock engaged the moment the door closed.

Veld arched a brow, about to speak, then felt the other join it as a familiar little head popped up from under Reeve's desk. _Cait Sith._ In the most benign terms, Reeve's little furchild. In practice, a nosy little spy who had a bad habit of getting into the vents, and he highly suspected was more capable with computers than you'd expect. "Reeve…"

Veld bit back a sigh and approached the desk. Cait promptly hid under it like a child expecting to be punished, and he paused. "I'm not angry. But I need to know what happened."

"Play the clip, Cait," Reeve said quietly.

Cait crawled up into Reeve's chair, tipping his head slightly. The audio started abruptly, like the recording had been started belatedly upon realizing what he'd walked in on.

"_\- paid as soon as I have proof Fuhito is dead. I've provided you the necessary locations and pass codes, this ought to be child's play if you're half as good as they say."_

Rufus' voice, he'd know it anywhere, even slightly distorted to a deeper, less precise tone.

"_You might even pick up another bounty or two along the way. AVALANCHE hasn't exactly made friends with the rest of Midgar's gang scene. I'm sure there's even a Don or two that would like them out of their territory, and if you cut out the brain, the body is useless."_

"_Just Fuhito?"_

Another man, _also_ one he recognized, from the same mercenary guild they'd gotten Judet from. High quality, but he demanded a steep price for his work. Not that Rufus couldn't pay, but it would be a notable dip into his pocketbook.

"_My interest is only with their scientist,"_ Rufus said. _"Do what you will with the rest, but I'm paying you for Fuhito."_

"_Alright. If your intel's good, I should have it done by tomorrow night."_

"_I should hope so. Contact me with the required proof of his demise and I'll see that you're paid the rest of the fee."_

"_Deal."_

The recording fuzzed out, and Veld took a slow, deep breath, processing it.

Rufus wanted Fuhito dead. Understandable, he wasn't the only one.

Rufus had the means to hire a hitman. Not a surprise, with his paycheck.

Rufus _knew where he was,_ to _send_ a hitman, including 'pass codes' which sounded an awful lot like access codes to at least one AVALANCHE hideout.

Which left him with three questions: _Why _did Rufus want Fuhito dead, _where _did he get the pass codes, and _why didn't he come to the Turks?_

From Reeve's wide-eyed expression, he'd come to the same conclusion Veld was rapidly coming to.

He'd always known there was a leak in the company, and that it had to be fairly high up - Reeve kept a tight grip on the reactor codes. Heidegger, for all his faults, was careful with his security schedules even if he could be unfortunately predictable. But it had never crossed his mind that _Rufus -_

"I'll need to speak with him," Veld said quietly.

"Veld, if he's betrayed us to AVALANCHE…" Reeve trailed off.

"I'll hear him out," Veld said. He knew Rufus. This was calculated. He just couldn't make the math make _sense._

"SOLDIER will rip him to shreds," Reeve said. "And if we put a traitor in the President's chair, we're still in the same boat."

"Only if they find out," Veld said. "Which is why he's gunning for Fuhito. Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead."

"Are you willing to take that risk?" Reeve asked.

That was the million gil question, wasn't it? Was he willing to risk the SOLDIERs finding out Rufus had been in bed with AVALANCHE? Or worse, that he'd known and endorsed him anyway? Could he, in good conscience, endorse him in the first place?

_No, _he thought grimly. He really couldn't. "I need to talk to him, find out what he was thinking."

"But if this is what it looks like?" Reeve prompted gently.

"Then I have to make sure the job's done myself," Veld said. "And have a long talk with Anya."

Reeve nodded. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, and it's better I know." Veld sighed. "But I'm sorry too."

* * *

Rufus was not expecting to see Veld again that evening, but welcomed him in with a smile. "I don't suppose you're here to wait for news?"

"No."

Something in his tone tipped him off, the flatness, maybe. "…Veld?"

"How long did you think you could keep a secret from the Turks, Rufus?" Veld asked.

Rufus blinked at him. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you mean."

"Putting a hit out on one of AVALANCHE's leaders is one thing, I've been trying to take them down for over a year," Veld said. "But practically having the keys to their hideouts to send the hitman with? Rufus."

It was like watching a transformation, the innocent confusion fading under a small, dark smile. Those blue eyes were hard, guarded, and Veld wondered how he hadn't seen it happening. "Well, _bravo_, Veld. Watching me a bit closer than you did the bastard, hm? Maybe you just learned your lesson."

"_Why,_ Rufus?" Veld asked.

"Why do you think, Veld? I'm a Shinra." He shrugged carelessly. "I tired of waiting for an inheritance he was wasting."

"So you leaked information to people who would like nothing more than to _destroy it?_" Veld said. "You're smarter than that."

"Carefully calculated, I assure you," Rufus said.

"Do you have _any idea_ how many people have died?" Veld asked.

"Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made for progress," Rufus said lightly. His smile turned mocking. "You taught me that."

Veld refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how deep that cut. "Here I'd thought I'd taught you _better._"

"Better than _what?_ You were going to kill the old man too," Rufus said. "We literally just talked about it."

"Your old man is getting what's coming to him," Veld said. "There are _innocent people -_"

"Nibelheim," Rufus snapped, narrowing his eyes. "Banora, for that matter. I may have enabled them to attack some ShinRa bases, but I didn't cover up the destruction of entire towns. Or does their middling size mean they don't count? Tell me, Veld, are your hands clean because it was sanctioned? Execution is still murder."

"I've never pretended my hands were clean," Veld said. "But you know damn well this is different."

"Why is it different? Why is it _any_ different from every time you send a Turk out on an objective to take out someone who's been deemed a threat?" Rufus demanded. "Why is it worse than us bulldozing an innocent nation because they wouldn't lick the old man's boots and let him put in a reactor?"

"Because _we trusted you,_" Veld said. "We weren't your enemies, Rufus. Killing off your own people is exactly what's getting your father shot tonight."

Rufus pressed his lips tight. "I see. Planning to make a clean sweep and start over, then?"

"I should," Veld said darkly, grimly satisfied to see Rufus' bravado falter. "That would be the practical, _responsible_ thing to do to someone who thinks it's acceptable to just throw his own people away."

Rufus was silent a long moment, until the weight of it was suffocating. "But?"

"Maybe I'm getting sentimental," Veld said quietly. "Maybe I just care too much."

Rufus winced, and looked away. "Veld, I -"

"Don't you dare apologize unless you mean it," Veld said.

"I'm not sorry for what I did," Rufus said. "I won't apologize for that. But I… _am_ sorry it hurt you. That was never my intention."

Veld smiled bitterly. "No, I was never supposed to know, was I? In your mind, you would use them to get what you wanted, then… what, feed us intel to get them killed?"

"It was understood that we were using each other," Rufus said, going to take a seat with a sigh. "Even as blind with delusions of grandeur as he is, Fuhito's not so stupid as to think I actually cared for his cause. It was an alliance of convenience, and the second we didn't need each other we'd have turned on each other. He just doesn't know he's expendable already."

Veld shook his head. "I want you to tell me everything you know."

Rufus arched a brow. "…what?"

"I'll handle AVALANCHE," Veld said. "Give me what you've got, and we'll clean up your mess. Keep this quiet."

Rufus' eyes widened. "You're serious? Just like that?"

"I'm not letting you get yourself killed over taking a belated teenage rebellion too seriously," Veld said. "But I'm not putting you in the President's chair yet, either."

"_What?_" Rufus caught himself, straightening stiffly. "I'll be _expected_ to take the chair. You can't deny me my inheritance without a damn good excuse."

"Please, the board watched you grow up. They still see you as too young for this," Veld said.

"And just who do you think they'd accept as a replacement? _You?_" Rufus snorted.

"Someone who's already proven he can run Midgar and Junon with very little help." Veld smiled. "_Reeve._"


	12. For Midgar's Sake

The idea to propose Reeve as the next president of ShinRa had occurred to Veld as he'd come up to Rufus' suite. He knew, without _question,_ that Reeve was going to hate it more than Anya was going to hate being Director of SOLDIER.

He also knew that Reeve wouldn't turn it down, no matter how much he hated it, because Reeve had given his life to Midgar a long time ago, and was in far too deep to fathom letting it crumble now.

Rufus was the better politician, in a way. He had the steel it would take not to agonize over certain decisions that would be necessary to keep the empire that ShinRa had turned into running smoothly. But that same coldness left him unprepared to handle the fact that these were real human lives he was impacting, which meant he wasn't much of an improvement from his father. Given that was the whole point… he'd removed himself as an option, at least for now.

Admittedly, part of selling this to Reeve with any sort of peace of mind was going to be going the same way he did Anya - as a temporary solution. And it might be. If they could bury Rufus' history with AVALANCHE deep enough, or at least twist it just right, then they could keep him on as the Vice President. In time, he might even come back around, grow into someone they _could _trust.

Or maybe that was sentiment talking. He'd be lying if he didn't admit, at least to himself, that even after this he couldn't quite bring himself to give up on Rufus.

Part of him wondered if it still would have come to this, if he'd just had more time with him. To be a guide instead of leaving him watching his father's example for cues.

The rest of him knew it was far too late to torture himself like that.

So he called Maur off his current task and sat him on Rufus, both to keep an eye on him and because the former detective could wade through the information and form a strategy as fast or faster than anyone else on his team.

Then he went to talk to Reeve, who clearly had gotten absolutely none of his actual work done in his absence if the stack of discarded sketches meant anything. "You have a minute?"

"Of course, come in." Reeve waved him in quickly, engaging the security features almost reflexively as he took a seat and fixed him with full attention. "How'd it go?"

"He's not happy that he's not getting the chair," Veld said. "I think I made about the only suggestion he could even fathom tolerating."

Reeve blinked. "…you have someone in mind already?"

"There's not a whole lot of qualified people out there, Reeve; you need someone who's proven they can handle politics, someone you know can work with the board successfully, someone who can handle overseeing massive, complex operations but also knows how to delegate -"

"Veld, that's… that's quite a list," Reeve said.

"Someone dedicated to the wellbeing of the common man," he continued evenly, watching Reeve's brows raise. "Someone who knows Midgar inside and out. Someone who's already proven they can run over a third of the company with minimal support and _still_ be consistently successful."

"Oh no," Reeve said, too quick not to catch on and far too aware of what was being asked to be eager to accept. "Nonono. No, you can't be _serious, _Veld, I have City Planning -"

"There is literally no one in ShinRa more qualified," Veld said. "The only thing you lack is the Shinra bloodline. And we can sell it as you taking charge until Rufus is a little older, and more practiced. If we're lucky, it'll even be true."

"_Veld._"

"I need someone I can trust, Reeve," Veld said quietly.

"Oh don't. Don't go there," Reeve said immediately. "Don't make it about that."

"It's already about that," Veld said. "You know it is."

Reeve groaned, covering his face with his hands. "You never make anything easy."

"No one said life would be easy," Veld said. "That doesn't mean it isn't worth it."

"There _has_ to be someone else," Reeve insisted.

"If you can think of someone, I'm all ears," Veld said. "Heidegger would be happy to take it off your hands. He knows how to manage a large group of people."

"He's incompetent and we'd be back at war in a month," Reeve muttered, partially muffled by his hands.

"Scarlet has a good head for finance and resource management," Veld offered.

"She's just as bloodthirsty, and SOLDIER would never agree with someone who can't be bothered to calibrate their equipment properly," Reeve said.

"Palmer knows about running a business. He's still got a handle on his family's affairs," Veld said, smiling faintly when Reeve glared at him through his fingers.

"Palmer has his head in the clouds and is notorious for wasting resources and manpower," Reeve said flatly.

"We've ruled out Rufus, and I think we both know no one would accept me even if I could manage politics from the spotlight instead of the shadows," Veld said. "A stranger, perhaps? Get some new blood in?"

"An insult to the entire board. Rufus would shoot them himself."

"Well you're shooting down all the other options, Reeve," Veld said.

"Because they're _not_ options, they're…" He heaved a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "God _damn_ it."

"It's you or Rufus, Reeve," Veld said.

"And we can't use Rufus," Reeve said. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"There's always a choice," Veld said. "There's just not always _good _choices."

"If we want ShinRa to survive, there's not another choice," he corrected, slumping back in his seat.

"Not that I can see," Veld agreed.

Reeve stared at the ceiling. "What about City Planning?"

"You'll be the President, you can do as you see fit," Veld said. "If you still want to oversee it, fine. Just delegate more."

Reeve nodded faintly. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Reeve offered a small, resigned smile. "I'll do it."

* * *

With Reeve's cooperation secured, Veld headed down to medical, where a quick look at the check ins said the top SOLDIERs had regrouped again for one last meeting before the end of visiting hours.

"Didn't expect to see you again today," Kunsel admitted. "Everything alright?"

"There's been a small adjustment," Veld said. "Regarding certain positions of power."

"Go on," he prompted.

"Rufus is young," Veld said. "I realize a lot of that is perspective, especially for you all. But for this, for a company this size and a job that weighty, he's _young._"

"You want someone else," Drew said.

"I'm nominating Reeve Tuesti," Veld said.

"The Director of City Planning?" Zack said. "I've worked for him some. He always seemed like an oddly nice guy, for an executive."

"He is," Veld agreed. "He cares in ways a lot of people don't by the point they've been in the company that long. His job means he thinks about _people,_ and their needs, not just politics. But he's been raised around the company, and a director since he was your age, he knows what he's doing."

"You think the board would go for it, with the VP still around?" Kunsel asked.

"I think the argument would be short, especially if Rufus doesn't put up too much of a fight," Veld said. "Reeve is well liked, competent, and no one ever registers him as a threat to their power. I think they'd agree before they realize he's not going to just roll over for them."

Drew hummed. "Promising. He does seem like a good guy, from what I've seen."

"Which is weird as hell," Benji said. "There _aren__'t_ nice executives. What's his vice?"

"Work," Veld said immediately. "He puts the job first."

"Not always a _healthy_ mindset," Drew said. "You burn out if you can't take a step back."

"I know." It had certainly crossed Veld's mind. He just had to hope Reeve would catch his stride faster than that, adapt and adjust to the new stress before it ate him alive. It was a risk they were going to have to take. "But he's the better candidate."

"Guess if 'putting the job first' means putting _people_ first from his point of view, we're in a pretty good place," Zack pointed out. "If nothing else, he's never been anything but helpful and polite when I've dealt with him."

"That's sort of his _thing,_" Veld said. "If I'm not getting any objection we'll go forward with that, then."

"Sounds good." Kunsel smiled. "We appreciate the check-in."

"I'm aiming for transparency," Veld said. "Teaming up doesn't do any good if we keep each other in the dark."

"Too true," he agreed. He didn't point out that it had certainly seemed more in the Turks' _nature_ to keep things moving in secret. If they wanted to be open about things, he'd take it with gratitude. "Any idea on when you're, ah… _moving forward?_"

"Soon," Veld said. "A day or two. We don't want to give too much time for trouble to start brewing. But there's no action for you all to take yet."

"You got plans for us?" Benji asked.

"Just for you to find level ground with Anya when she takes over," Veld said. "Leave the politics to me."

"So long as your politics don't threaten SOLDIER, we'd be happy to," Drew said. "No one joins SOLDIER wanting to be a politician."

"No, I'd think not," he agreed, amused.

"So we're good?" Zack ventured.

"We're good," Drew said. "And we'll let you conk out, before Kunsel starts chasing us out."

"Yeaaaah, he might just," Zack said, covering a yawn.

"Take care," Veld said, slipping out.

"We'll be in touch." Benji saluted casually and headed out, Drew on his heels.


	13. A Turk's Agenda

The fact that AVALANCHE had been hidden in Midgar, right under his nose, galled Veld to no end. Never mind the sheer size of Midgar, never mind that he didn't have the forces to be everywhere at once, never mind that of course they'd made an art out of staying under ShinRa's radar up until they attacked, he couldn't help the irritation that they'd been there _all this time_ and he hadn't found them.

This would also mark the first time he'd gotten a proper look at their forces that wasn't fast-moving blurs or blended into a crowd. He was hoping he might be able to identify their leaders better, find out where they'd come from and what motivated them. As a collective, they claimed to be environmentalists, but that sort of extremism always had a deeper, darker foundation. Usually some sin of ShinRa's, but until he saw their faces and was able to put proper identities to the single names he'd been given, it didn't matter.

'Shears' was _most likely_ the same Shears that had headed up the Silver Crows that had infested the Train Graveyard, which would explain where the sheer numbers of AVALANCHE had come from. Fuhito was likely _Fuhito Hira,_ a former Junon University student who'd gotten a bachelors in bioengineering before dropping out part way into his doctorate and proceeding to completely vanish from academia. It would explain the Ravens better than anything else.

But Elfé was a mystery. He'd never heard the name before, and all the enhanced females to _ShinRa__'s_ credit were accounted for. Well, as far as he knew. Unfortunately, if there were others Hojo had created and discarded, he'd taken their identities to the grave.

Not that he was any sort of scientist, but it seemed like mako didn't always agree very well with women - part of why they'd been barred from SOLDIER. The irony that there may well be one success, by a _student _of Hojo's, wasn't lost on him. He looked forward to getting a better idea of what he was dealing with soon.

"We're in position to infiltrate, Chief," Emma reported. "Permission to advance?"

"Go for it, but be mindful. We don't want to tip them off that they've been found." Veld took a seat, watching the bank of monitors closely as the various monitoring devices were guided into the warehouse they had taken over for a base.

The team was silent, taking in the sight, the controllers minding their drones to avoid detection while the others observed and made notes on AVALANCHE's forces and supplies as they came to them, and any bits of audio that might have some use later - talk of locations or supplies, _anything_ they could use.

"I think we've hit mythril," Ruluf said quietly. "Check it, that's definitely Shears, I'd know the bastard anywhere."

"Which makes _that_ Fuhito," Emma said. "Focus your camera, let's get some good shots. Where's Elfé?"

"She's got to be there," Ruluf said. "Or will be soon. Might'a stepped out a minute."

Veld was going to comment, before a woman's voice could be heard, and his eyes went wide. He gripped his wrist, thumb pressed over the scar hidden under his glove, and he stared in shock at the figure coming on screen.

_She__'s got my hair,_ was the first somewhat coherent thought. Cut short, it spiked a bit, just like his did. But it was the voice he would have known anywhere, gone low and smooth just like her mother's but still unmistakably _Felicia._

"Chief?" Ruluf prompted.

"We need people in there," Veld said, admirably even toned through the thundering of his heart and the ringing in his ears.

All the same, as good as he was he'd still trained the next generation all too well. Ruluf looked between him and the screen, squinting a moment, before making a sharp sound. "Holy _shit,_ is that her? Is that your kid?"

"_Ruluf,_" Emma hissed, smacking his arm.

"It is," Veld said quietly.

"Guess we're stagin' another rescue mission then," Ruluf said, flicking his camera around. "Alright. Feet on the ground, yeah? An awful lot of 'em, but I wouldn't trust army with this."

"No, no army," Veld agreed immediately. He didn't want Heidegger involved. He _couldn__'t_ have Heidegger involved, not if he wanted to get Felicia out alive.

"SOLDIER," Vincent said quietly.

Veld glanced at him, arching a brow. "SOLDIER is a sledgehammer, Vin. I need a sniper rifle."

"And you have that," Vincent said. "But for numbers like those, you need either a large group to meet them as equals in number, or a small group to meet them as equals in power. And they owe you, for Fair."

"AVALANCHE has taken out some of their people. I don't know how merciful they'd feel like being," Veld said. "There's a reason we've changed things."

Vincent glanced at him a moment before making the connection and inclining his head. "You'll need to distract the board."

"Bump up the timeline and the board will be _very_ distracted," Veld said darkly. And Rupert would be out of his way.

"Bump up the timeline and you're stuck here," Vincent pointed out.

And one more time, duty came before family. Veld closed his eyes. "I trust my team."

Vincent squeezed his shoulder. "Tell us what you want to do."

* * *

It was well into the night when Rupert Shinra made his way home, tired but satisfied with the day he'd had. He dismissed his escort to linger in the living room, heading deeper into the penthouse with nothing on his mind but a hot shower and sleep. With the shower running, he wouldn't have heard an intruder - would never have _dreamed_ there was an intruder, not with his troops at every entry and a Turk in the living room.

He dressed for bed, pleasantly tired and not at all paying attention as he slid under satin sheets with a gusty sigh and hit the lights.

Red eyes flicked open on the other side of the room, a malevolent glow in the pitch darkness, and he gasped, fumbling for the light and the pistol under his pillow.

When the light came on, there was nothing, and he let out a little uneasy chuckle. _I shouldn__'t have been reading those reports on Hojo before bed_… He'd always had quite the imagination, and he was just tired enough for it to run away with him.

Rupert shook his head and turned to get the light again, only to freeze. The hair on the back of his neck raised as he stared across the room where a figure stood by the door. The hair was too long, and the eyes had never glowed like that before, but considering he was staring at a dead man that was hardly the point. "…Valentine."

"Hello, _sir,_" he murmured, voice dropped to a chilling baritone. "So sorry I'm late."

"What… what are you doing here?" He managed, swallowing and curling his fingers around his pistol. "You're dead."

"Exactly what I did when I was alive." Valentine raised the three barreled monster he called a gun, expression entirely void of emotion. "Protecting ShinRa's best interests."

"I _am_ ShinRa!" Rupert snapped. With reflex borne of decades of training and hunting and shooting for sport, he brought the pistol up and shot, again and again, only to have him collapse into a stream of crimson fabric.

The last thing he saw was a sudden flash from within the folds.

* * *

Veld stood beside Rufus, watching Maur supervise their clinical team as they processed the crime scene. He'd insisted on coming in, taking in the sight of his father sprawled back on the bed with a pistol still clenched in his hand, face twisted in shocked horror, his own expression largely blank. Pale blue eyes had gone dark, though they were dry, and he honestly looked a little shell shocked.

It was hard to say how much of that was real, how much of an act he felt necessary to put on even for the Turks.

"We've got this under control if you want to go make a statement," Maur said lightly.

"…we should, I suppose," Rufus said quietly.

"We should," Veld agreed. He placed his good hand on the small of Rufus' back and urged him out of the room.

Rufus let himself be guided. Dressed in his own pajamas instead of his usual suit, hair combed but not quite styled so it was a bit fluffier than he'd have normally allowed anyone to see, he looked… young. Vulnerable.

And even though Veld knew full well at least part of that was deliberately calculated, he couldn't help himself; it _worked._ He moved his guiding hand to Rufus' shoulder as they headed out to deal with the rest of the executives.

Palmer looked about ready to faint, sitting on the couch in his pajamas and clutching at a pillow.

Heidegger was thin lipped, dark eyes hard, and one of the closest to 'together' given he'd rolled out in camouflage pants and an Army hoodie. And, given he had insisted on his troops being the higher percentage of guard over the Turks, he didn't have anything smart to say. This fell back on his department, and he knew it. "What have you found out?"

"Is it the same one who killed Hojo?" Palmer asked.

"I don't like making assumptions that quickly," Veld said. "But I think it would be a hell of a coincidence if not."

"So we've got someone with an agenda," Scarlet said.

"There's always people with agendas," Reeve said. "What we have is someone with a very _specific_ sort of grudge. Hojo wasn't a public figure outside academia."

"Not the sort of people you'd expect to come in and start firing," Scarlet said.

"Doesn't have to be. Anyone with enough money can hire a hitman," Heidegger said. "And academics on Hojo's level have money."

"My team and I will be looking into it," Veld said. "For now, I would appreciate everyone taking my security concerns more seriously. The building is under guard, you will all be escorted in the morning, and we can discuss this in detail then."

"Then I think we should all get to bed," Reeve said. "Tomorrow will be a busy day."


	14. Partners

Executives shooed to their respective suites, Veld made his way back to his own, mind racing.

He wasn't surprised to find it occupied already, though the scent of blood was a little alarming. "He hit you?"

"He always was a good shot," Vincent said. There was a bandage clumsily tied up on his upper arm, which he grudgingly allowed Veld to inspect. "It's fine, it's half healed already. I just didn't want to bleed on anything."

"Still." Veld examined the wound for himself, finding it was indeed already healing considerably, faster than even a First Class would. Not for the first time, it crossed his mind that he needed to find time to read the project files, and find out what had been done to his partner. Somewhere in his abundant free time. "Thank you, for taking care of that."

Vincent hummed in acknowledgment, inclining his head. "Rufus took that well."

"Maybe not as well as he thought he would," Veld said. "Rupert was a failure as a parent, but he was still his father."

"I suppose so," Vincent said. "But it's always easier to sell a lie, when there's a grain of truth in it."

Veld nodded. The board would believe he was grieving, which would help them sell the idea of Reeve taking over even if it was on the understanding of it being temporary. As long as they didn't agree to a specific time limit, they were in the clear; once Reeve was in the chair, it would be much easier to _keep_ him there. At least long enough to get things settled down.

"I don't suppose you intend on getting any sleep tonight?" Vincent asked.

"There's what, four hours before I'd get up?" Veld said, checking

"I seem to recall someone lecturing me about the awful habit of living on coffee," Vincent said mildly.

"Yeah, well, that was someone who didn't understand the burden of leadership," Veld said, heading for the kitchen to do exactly that.

"_Veld._"

"Nope."

"I can go watch the operation," Vincent said. "And wake you _if necessary._"

Veld hesitated, glancing at him. "You're a little out of practice."

"I think I can figure out when to call the director, _assuming_ your people weren't already well aware," Vincent said. "You're going to need a clear head going into tomorrow."

"I have a clear head for the first thirty six hours," Veld said. "And I can catch a nap, if I have to."

Vincent grunted in disapproval, watching him put the coffee on, but didn't protest further.

He'd just finished getting the reservoir filled when his phone went off, startling them both. He went for it immediately, frowning. "Yes?"

"_Chief, the hitman got there first. He's taken out Fuhito,"_ Ruluf reported.

Veld bit back a curse. "And AVALANCHE?"

"_Scattered. We're dividing up monitoring equipment to try and find which hideout they're headed for next, but no one would be surprised if they left Midgar entirely to regroup._"

"Which probably means Junon." It was the next best place to hide a group that big.

"_Probably. We've got some places to look into there, too. We could try to watch the exits, but we might need more manpower."_

Veld thought quickly. _Usually _it was Heidegger's troopers watching the city access points, but the last thing he wanted was to get him involved in this. That was a death sentence for his daughter. But there might just be a loophole.

If he asked SOLDIER to do it, they _were_ still technically Public Safety forces. They didn't have to know the details. And they'd already said flat out they didn't want to answer to Heidegger.

"I'll make arrangements with SOLDIER, and see if Reeve can have some of his people in customs keep an eye out," he said. "Do what you can with the monitoring equipment."

"_On it. We'll let you know when we find something._"

"Do that. I'll let you know who I've got for you to work with as soon as I know," Veld said.

"_You got it, Chief._"

This close, enhanced hearing was enough for Vincent to overhear the entire conversation. He watched Veld a moment, seeing the tension running through him. "What do you want me to do?"

A good question. Vincent was a valuable resource, if placed correctly. The problem was, Veld wasn't sure where he would do the most good. He was a damn good tracker, but he hesitated to send him in blind without any context for AVALANCHE's abilities. Or his own, for that matter.

"I want you to read Felicia's files," he said slowly. "Find out what he did to her. She's got SOLDIER strength, but there was no glow in her eyes. It's something related to materia, but if Hojo had considered it a success she wouldn't be the only one."

"And yet there's some level of 'success' if she's alive and as powerful as you say," Vincent said. "And not locked up, for that matter."

Veld grimaced at the reference, but had to admit he had a point. "I want to know what happened, as much as we can. And I want to know how she ended up with AVALANCHE, instead of coming home."

"She may not have felt safe doing so," Vincent said. "If she believed ShinRa supported what Hojo had done."

"She could have come to _me,_" Veld said.

"She may not have known you were alive," Vincent said softly. "It would be all too easy for him to have told her the same lies he fed you."

Veld grit his teeth, nodding. As much as it hurt, it was better than the alternative. If she'd thought for one moment that he'd have sided with ShinRa over her -

_But haven__'t you? Haven't you always chosen your job over your family?_

His wrist burned.

A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he looked up to find Vincent looking at him, not with pity but aching understanding. "I'll find out, Veld. And we'll find her."

Veld swallowed thickly, and managed a small, tight smile. "Thanks, Vin."

"Go lay down," Vincent said softly. "Even if you don't sleep, you can get some rest. There's nothing you can do for her now, but you can be ready for tomorrow."

Veld nodded, having to admit he had a point. "Alright. But I'm taking my phone, in case someone calls."

Vincent smirked. "Of course you will."

Veld swatted at him, turning the coffee pot off, and went to lay down.

Morning came too quickly, and he jerked awake with his alarm.

"Easy." A hand on his shoulder startled him further and he turned to find Vincent had come and perched on the bed at some point during the night.

No wonder he'd slept. "No updates?"

"Not from your team," Vincent said. "I finished reading through the folders and made some notes. I'll need to look up some of the terms, but I was able to make some educated guesses."

"That's part of why I asked you," Veld said. There was a reason Vincent had been chosen for the Nibelheim mission, and not just because Gast liked him; he could have followed in his father's footsteps, if he hadn't balked at being stuck in his shadow. Alex knew he was their best bet at understanding just what Gast and his people were up to.

Of course, he'd also asked Vincent because no matter what he'd been through, he was still _Vincent_, and Veld would trust him with anything without thinking twice.

To judge by the way his eyes softened, he knew it. "You can look over the notes later. I think you have a morning board meeting to run?"

"Something like that," Veld agreed. "To orchestrate, at least."

Vincent nodded. "You think Rufus will play along?"

"Only because it's Reeve," Veld said. "If I'd suggested _anyone _else, he'd fight me on it every step of the way."

Vincent arched a brow. "Why not Reeve?"

Veld chuckled. "Reeve doesn't want it, and would happily hand it over the second it's actually an option. Rufus knows this isn't the end of the matter."

"Do you think there will come a point when it's safe to hand it over to him?" Vincent asked.

Veld sighed. "I want to think so."

Vincent didn't miss the wording. Kindly, he didn't push it. "I suppose we'll see."

"I suppose we will," Veld agreed. "I have to get ready. Answer the phone if it's anyone from my team, Reeve, or Rufus."

Vincent nodded, taking it gently and setting it beside him as he went back to the notebook he'd borrowed.

Veld watched him a moment, struck by how familiar it was, his partner settled on his bed leafing through paperwork with a frown of concentration on his face, and felt a rare warmth ease the knot in his chest. He'd never expected to have that again. Whatever happened, he wouldn't take it for granted.

Once he'd left, Vincent let his eyes raise from the notebook, drifting to the closed door. He would do what Veld asked of him, of course. There were benefits to what had been done to him, he could already tell he had strength he'd never had before and seemingly endless stamina, he could go places and do things his partner could not. If he could make something _good_ come of his torment, then he would gladly take the opportunity.

But he also knew, no matter how much the years and trials had undoubtedly changed Veld, _some things _hadn't changed. And he knew that look in his eye. Someone needed to keep an eye on him, and there was a very good chance that even if the people he was around recognized it, he wouldn't let _them_ do anything about it, too insistent on keeping some distance as the leader. Which meant it fell to him.

Just as well. He'd always had Veld's back, and he didn't intend to let _that_ change.


	15. Playing Politics

There were benefits to having Turks escort the executives back to headquarters, of course. Not the least of which was the fact that once the board meeting began, the Turk presence was almost tangible.

Veld was the only one not seated, and moved to the conspicuously empty head of the table. "My team has finished processing the scene. Obviously, it has to be compared to what we found in Nibelheim. We're hopeful to find more clues here, with the heavier security, and I'll be updating you all as soon as I've found out more."

"You intend to interrogate my troopers, I assume," Heidegger said flatly.

"I intend to question everyone in the building last night," Veld said. "So it's going to be a long process, unless we have a break early on."

"Hopefully you will. Who knows who else is on their list," Scarlet said.

"That depends entirely on motivation," Veld said. "If it's about something Hojo did, taking out Hojo and the President would likely be the end of _people,_ leaving them with just wanting to destroy relevant locations. If this is about the war and they're going after the root of SOLDIER…"

"Then I would be next," Heidegger said.

Veld nodded. "Of course, if it's taking out ShinRa, _period_, then it could be any of us. It remains to be seen what the precise motivation here is, and I'm not making assumptions."

"Wonderful." Scarlet scowled. "So we're all going to be under guard everywhere we go. How are we expected to work like this?"

"Better than if you were dead," Veld said.

"The Turks are hardly obtrusive," Reeve said. "I'm sure we can learn to adjust, for our own safety."

"_I_ have my own people who can step up my guard," Heidegger said.

"Like they guarded the president?" Scarlet said.

"Don't start," Rufus said. He was playing the part of the withdrawn, rather shell shocked son perfectly - he looked like he hadn't slept, stressed and exhausted and not at all in the mood for Scarlet and Heidegger's shenanigans. "We need to discuss how this affects the _company._ Do what you want with your own lives, I couldn't care less."

"Obviously, someone's going to have to make a statement, and PR is going to have to be brought in on making sure this is handled to our best… angle," Scarlet said, realizing perhaps that _best advantage_ was not the term to use in front of a dead man's son.

Rufus arched a brow at her, unimpressed. "Yes, _obviously. _I was talking about me taking control of the company at twenty. There will be talk."

"And you care about talk?" She asked skeptically.

"I _care_ about the reputation of my company," Rufus snapped. "I'm not going to leave us looking vulnerable. If that means I have to wait a year or two, for ShinRa's sake, then I'll suck it up and work from the background."

There was some disbelieving silence, even from Veld; he hadn't expected him to _suggest it_ himself.

"I assume you have someone in mind," Scarlet said.

"Reeve," Rufus said simply.

"You've got to be kidding me," Heidegger said immediately. "He's barely older than you are!"

"He's ten years older than I am, and he'll _give it back,_" Rufus said flatly. "If I give _you_ the presidency, I'd get pushed out of my own company."

Heidegger flushed. "I'd never -"

"You still haven't even given SOLDIER a proper, dedicated director, don't lie to my face," Rufus said. "You're not fooling anyone here, let's at least be honest."

"Did you two even talk about this?" Scarlet asked. "He's never shown the slightest interest in politics beyond handling _City Planning._"

"He's handled everything that's ever been asked of him," Rufus said. "I have no doubt he can at least _pretend_ to be in charge, and people _like him._ Which is more than I can say for the rest of the board."

Reeve coughed, straightening his tie. "If you really think this is the best way to go forward, then… I suppose we'll have to work something out."

"Do you really think I'd suggest someone take over in my place if I thought there was _literally any_ other way?" Rufus said, the frustration in his voice very much genuine.

"Of course," Reeve said softly, holding up a hand. "I'd be honored to work with you."

"Then it's decided. Reeve and I will be partners, up until a point when I can take over without a public fuss," Rufus said. "He'll be the face of things. And you'll all deal with it, because I own over half the shares of this company and _no one_ is irreplaceable."

"You've made your point," Reeve said, almost gentle in comparison. He could see them sizing him up, already plotting how to make this work in their favor, and the mere _idea_ of it all was exhausting.

But he'd committed to it. And Reeve had never backed down from a challenge just because he didn't like it.

"Is that all, then?" Scarlet asked.

"While we're on the note of promotions and changing things up, I'm going to address our two _other_ empty chairs," Rufus said. "Science and SOLDIER."

"Now see here -" Heidegger started.

"They don't trust you, for good reason, and they resent you almost as much as you resent them," Rufus said. "There is no point in having a department head who is not an advocate for the well being and success of their own department, that's ridiculous. Father may have been fine with letting you have your little power fantasy, but I'm done with it."

"And what does our _President_ think?" Heidegger asked, eyeing Reeve.

Reeve arched a brow. "Do you know _why_ Veld was in Nibelheim, Heidegger?"

That was not the angle _anyone_ had been expecting.

Heidegger narrowed his eyes, fully expecting he was being set up. "…why?"

"Because Zack Fair's soulmate felt the _immense_ pain he was in, at Hojo's tender mercies," Reeve said mildly. He didn't smile at the way the other executives blanched. "I'm familiar with Zack. We all are, of course, one of SOLDIER's prodigies. But I've worked with him. I've worked with SOLDIER, for that matter. And I know he is _highly_ regarded. So if I had to take a wild guess about how SOLDIER is feeling about ShinRa _right this moment,_ I would say they're not feeling very charitable. So, do I think maybe it's time we put someone they like in charge of their department before, say, we have _another_ defection? Yes. Yes I do."

"_Hojo _had Fair?" Scarlet said. "Are we sure _SOLDIER_ isn't behind the assassinations?"

"They were both shot, and Hojo was dead before the SOLDIERs could do anything," Veld said. "So while I wouldn't say it's impossible for them to have been behind the _President__'s_ assassination, they didn't have the time or opportunity to kill Hojo."

"If it was SOLDIER, you'd know. They can't do anything subtly," Heidegger said.

"And it is _precisely_ that attitude that needs addressed," Rufus said.

"Kyaa haa, who would you put in his place, then?" Scarlet asked, clearly amused.

Rufus tapped his fingers on his coffee cup, thoughtful. "Torvik."

"A _Turk?_" Heidegger said. "SOLDIER doesn't get on with the Turks either!"

"They work with _her,_" Rufus said. "They've worked with her in Junon since before Lazard defected. They wouldn't like her, no, but they respect her. Which is more than I can say for you. Besides, she was a part of Public Safety, back in the day."

"You can't be serious," Heidegger protested. He looked at Veld. "Can you even afford to spare her? She's your eyes on the academy."

"She's trained up a solid team," Veld said. "If necessary, one of them could take over."

"_If necessary?_ She can't manage both!"

"Why not, because she's a woman?" Scarlet asked, narrowing her eyes. "_You_ managed two whole _departments_ just fine."

"We're not having another argument," Rufus said. "The only alternative is promoting someone from within their ranks."

"We could have them interviewed for it," Reeve suggested. "That's not a bad idea, if there's any of them that could handle that much paperwork."

"And that's something she could do, it doesn't have to be a permanent appointment," Rufus said. "In fact, it might be best that it's not. But for now, it'll work. I trust you can win her over, Veld."

"I'll manage," he said dryly.

"What about the Science Department, then?" Scarlet asked.

"Who's running it now?" Rufus glanced at Veld. "Hojo's dead, Hollander is probably dead by now, and you had to arrest Warren. Where does that leave us?"

"Currently, Amber Rayleigh is handling SOLDIER," Veld said. "She's experienced with the program, though she'll need to be signed into Hojo's accounts to read up further on the parts he classified."

"Wouldn't we all," he muttered. "Can she do it?"

"I think she's certainly our best bet for managing SOLDIER," Veld said.

"Which is more or less the _point_ of Science, at this point," Rufus said. "Fine. Do that. But keep an eye on her, I don't want any more of the shenanigans that went on under my father."

"I can do that," Veld said.

"See that you do. I don't want to see anyone getting on the kind of power trip Hojo was," Rufus said. "And I'll talk with SOLDIER myself. What's happened is inexcusable and I don't want them thinking I was in favor."

"If we're done here, then, I think I'll let Torvik and Rayleigh know," Reeve said. "And then we can work on a PR statement."

"Do that." Rufus sighed, looking around the table with a small, hard smile. "I'm glad we were all able to come to an agreement."


	16. SOLDIER Problems

Having been warned ahead of time, it took Anya much less time to be ready to fly in from Junon than it might have otherwise. She would have to meet with Rufus and Reeve, of course, but having already talked to Veld she had a different priority.

She went down to medical to meet up with the SOLDIERs currently in Midgar, who were quite insistent on having Zack involved, never mind that he was the newest to the Firsts' rank.

She wasn't surprised to be immediately assessed by the group. "Gentlemen."

"You guys keep calling us that like you have no idea what you've walked in on," Benji said, apparently unbothered by the elbow that found its way into his side.

"Good to see you too, Richards," she said, smiling.

"Excuse him, he was born in a chocobo pen," Drew said.

Anya smirked, shaking her head. "I assume you've been updated on my new position."

"Yeah, Faraman mentioned," Drew said. "Better than _Heidegger._"

"Not a very high bar," she observed.

"Nah, you got it easy there," Benji said.

"Perhaps. But I'd like to make it a little easier, given I still have responsibilities in Junon I hesitate to abandon," she said. "I want to implement some internal leadership positions again."

Drew arched a brow. "Like what, another general-and-commanders situation? Even without the war?"

"I don't know that a general is necessary, given we're not at war, but some sort of internal command structure," she said. "Oversight. If nothing else, it would make communications between an otherwise independent force more convenient, don't you think?"

"Wait, you're _encouraging_ us to work as a group?" Zack arched a brow. "Or are you saying you want us grouped all the time now?"

"I'm saying I think, current circumstances what they are, a little more organization and cohesiveness would do you some good," she said. "Besides, it makes more sense to outsiders. The public is more comfortable with a force that makes sense, even one that's as powerful as SOLDIER."

"So we need some poster boys," Benji said, humming. "I nominate Zack."

"_Me?_" Zack blinked. "I have the _least_ experience -"

"- and the most popularity," Kunsel said. "You have a fanclub, babe. And some of the others have grabbed on to you too."

"But…" Zack gave them a disbelieving look.

"Everybody likes you, you've got the whole 'inspirational speech' thing down, you're popular _outside _of SOLDIER, and I mean…" Drew faltered a little. "You had connections, too. Some people might think it makes more sense."

Zack looked down, swallowing hard at the sting of the reminder. "Guess so."

"Just give it some thought, man, no one's making decisions this morning," Benji said.

Zack nodded. "Yeah. I'll think about it."

"Given there's only four Firsts left, it wouldn't be unreasonable to split things that way," Anya said. "If you didn't want the spotlight."

Zack nodded, relieved. "Yeah, I mean that makes more sense to me."

"We'll talk it over," Drew said. "Was there anything else?"

"Not as of yet," Anya said. "I need to see what Heidegger has made of things and what may need straightened out. If you're _aware_ of what, then I would be happy to hear."

"Talk to Nikolas about it," Drew said. "He was working with Sephiroth on it, so he's got the best idea. I haven't dug into Midgar's end yet, but I know where things were kept, and he wouldn't have thrown away a good organizational system."

"He was still working out of the director's office when we left," Zack said. "So he probably hadn't moved things. As busy as he was, I don't think he had _time_."

"Probably not," Kunsel agreed.

"I'll look with you," Drew said. "I'm more familiar with the ins and out of the program, anyway."

"I welcome whatever assistance you're willing to give," she said. "Ultimately, my goal is to have SOLDIER as self-sufficient within its own ranks as the board will allow."

Benji grinned. "Then I think we might just work out alright."

"I thought you might say so." She smiled. "Any thoughts or concerns?"

A glance was exchanged, and she was intrigued to find the eyes settled on the single Second among them.

"I think we need to discuss your plan first, and get back with you," Kunsel said. "But it sounds good."

"Do what you will, then." She nodded. "You might consider what I said, about breaking things up. It would make these conversations amongst your ranks easier if they were pre-split into groups, even though functionally you're all independent operatives."

"We'll talk about that too," Drew said. "Pull on some of the old war communications and report structure from the bigger campaigns. There's a foundation for what you're talking about, we've just got to repurpose it a little."

"Then I leave you to it, and perhaps tomorrow you and I will discuss things," she said.

"Yeah, sounds good." Drew nudged Benji. "C'mon, we'll go take a look at stuff and let these two rest some before someone else gets it in their head to visit."

"Aw, you know I don't mind," Zack said.

"Still. You've been through a lot," Drew said. "Just chill out a while."

"It'll be a new experience, I know," Benji said. "But we've got faith."

"Yeah, yeah, smartasses. Get going, then," Zack said, shooing them.

Kunsel watched them go, absently rubbing Zack's shoulder. "We're lucky to have them."

"Hell yeah we are," Zack agreed, leaning into him at once with a sigh. He smiled at a brush of lips over his forehead, how Kunsel had taken to checking his temperature lately. "I'm still hot, right?"

"Dork." Kunsel chuckled. "Fever's going down some, but yeah, you're still hot."

"That's very important information," Zack said. "You'd still love me if I wasn't hot, right?"

"I love you even when you ask stupid questions," Kunsel said, giving him a loud smacking kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah, but you think that's cute. I mean like, if I grew horns or a tail or… y'know…" Zack laughed weakly. "_Wings._"

Kunsel straightened, realizing he was serious. "Zack -"

"I mean, wings are cool, I'd love to fly. I bet it'd be _great_ if you weren't being hauled around like a sack of potatoes!" Zack said quickly. "And they look _epic,_ even if they're lopsided, it's just -"

"- _Zack -_"

"- historically, wings have not ended well for SOLDIERs and there's a whole _stigma_ now, and -"

"_Zack!_" Kunsel grabbed him by the chin and made him look at him. "Breathe."

"…I'm breathing," Zack said.

"Good." Kunsel cradled his face in his palms, thumbs pressing lightly over his lips. "You're gonna be okay."

"We don't know what he did," Zack whispered.

Kunsel tapped his lips. "Shh, hey now. We've got his records, Rayleigh's going through them. If she thought you were going to mutate and lose your mind, we wouldn't be here, we'd be quarantined somewhere, right?"

"Yeah but -"

"No, no buts. The Turks are paranoid as hell, you can _bet_ they've asked her about that very thing and she's deemed it such a low level threat that she's not worried," Kunsel said. "You're gonna be okay."

Zack made a tight sound. "_I__'m_ worried. You didn't see them, at the end, Kuns. They lost their _minds._ Angeal's dead, and when we saw Genesis that last time, he was just… he was a dead man walking. And I'm not sure that's _better._"

"That's not going to be you," Kunsel said. "Okay? You're gonna be _fine._"

"You don't _know that._" Zack took a sharp breath, holding it a moment. "I don't want that to happen. And I don't want to put you through it. But I don't know that there's anything I can _do_ about it, and it's driving me _crazy._"

"Hey, hey, okay wait," Kunsel said. "Let's talk to the doctor first, okay? Before we go getting upset about _maybes_ and _could bes,_ let's see what is actually going on, alright? We could _what if-_ this to death, but it's just upsetting you, not actually helpful. We can talk to someone with _actual answers._"

Zack nodded slowly. "Yeah… yeah, okay. I'd like that."

Kunsel nodded, kissing his forehead and getting up to go peek his head out. "Hey, Cissnei? Would you grab Professor Rayleigh? We want to talk about Zack's files."

Cissnei arched a brow, but nodded. "Sure. Be right back."

Kunsel nodded, started to duck back in, then hesitated. "Ask her about a bed I could get up in with Zack too, alright?"

She smiled at that. "You're adorable. I'll go ask."

"Thanks." He ducked back inside at once. "Cissnei's getting Rayleigh."

Zack nodded, managing a little smile. It widened into something more genuine when Kunsel promptly came back and kissed him. "Love you, babe."

"Love you too," Kunsel said. "Even if you had wings. Just try not to molt on the bed or anything."

Zack snorted, shoving at his shoulder. "You are such a jerk."

"Yeah, but you love me." Kunsel grinned.

"Head over heels." Zack winked. "C'mere."

"You're the one that pushed me." Kunsel came back to the bed, wrapping his arms around him. Even when there was a knock on the door and Zack went tense, he didn't let go. "Come in!"

Rayleigh let herself in, carrying a small collection of files on top of a laptop. "I understand you have some questions?"

"Yeah." Zack took a quiet, steadying breath. "Am I… stable? Whatever he did… I mean, you know what's happened with some of the others…"

"I'm familiar with degradation, it's something that's been documented in tests on animals in enhancement trials," Rayleigh said. "You are not a candidate for degradation."

Zack made a breathless sound of relief. "I'm stable?"

"You're stable," she agreed. "While I'm not sure the _purpose_ of Hojo's experiments, you seem entirely stable by every test I've run. You may, however, experience a bit more growth in your stats."

"Like, my strength and stuff?" Zack blinked. "…huh… I mean, I guess that makes sense. Mako tends to kick things into high gear and I was pretty saturated for… a while."

"You were, yes. He appears to have tried to introduce what he calls 'S Cells' - a particular type of cell somehow related to Sephiroth's unique enhancement process," she said. "But they seem to be both harmless and honestly useless. Even in his notes, he mentions that they were showing no result. His theory was that it was because you were already highly enhanced as a First. There were other experiments slated to be done once you finished healing, which… he expected to be done very quickly, apparently."

"Yeah, mako tanks do a lot, plus First's enhancements…" Zack sighed. "I appreciate you not putting me back in one."

"I don't think the trauma's worth it when you can heal naturally," she said.

"Thanks," he said softly. "So, uh, what about Cloud?"

"Cloud was also treated with S Cells, and given Third Class mako enhancement levels," Rayleigh said. "Judging from the notes in his files, more was intended once he'd finished processing it all, but lack of preconditioning has left him with mako poisoning."

"…wait, he was going to give him _more?_ He had to know he was poisoned!" Zack said.

"It was clear in his assessment that he viewed the poisoning more as a temporary inconvenience than a long-term problem," she said.

Zack's eyes widened. "So, he _expected_ him to wake up?"

"That's the thought," Rayleigh agreed. "And I have to say, with how well he's metabolizing it… I could see it happening."

Zack looked over at Cloud. "Gods, I hope so."

"He, also, appears stable," she said. "But his system is overwhelmed. It would take time and therapy for him to fully recover."

"…do you think he will?" Zack asked softly.

"I can't make you any promises," she said. "I'll know more when he wakes up and a team can assess his condition."

"Okay." Zack sighed. "Could, uhm, I see those files sometime? Mine, I mean, I know you probably can't show me Cloud's…"

"Actually, that's what all this is. Your files, and a laptop with a suite of information to help you look up terms," she said. "Just promise me you won't read them alone."

"He won't," Kunsel said immediately.

"Then you can see them, yes," she said.

"Thanks, doc." Zack smiled, relieved.

"Of course. Is there anything else?" She asked.

Zack hesitated, then shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. But thanks."

"Then I'll see myself out. Feel free to approach with any questions," she said.


	17. For SOLDIER

Dinner time came with a round of wheedling as two Firsts and several Seconds descended on medical with some powerful determination and "actual food" for their bed-bound friend.

Zack sniffed at the container curiously before he popped the lid open and made a sound of delight. "You got me _gumbo?_"

"Your cousin's suggestion," Drew said. "Said it might perk you up."

"Hell yeah! How did you sneak this past Rayleigh?" He asked, dipping a spoon in and getting some of the gloriously rich broth and one of the fat, glistening shrimp for a big bite of nostalgic deliciousness. He made a little sound of appreciation, hand tightening slightly around the spoon. This couldn't possibly be takeout, this was right up there with what his ma made. "Gods, that's good."

"We figured some real food would be a good morale boost," Drew said. "Hospital food is…"

"Like, half a step over mess hall food, on a good day," Benji said. "You can't live on that."

"Yeah, I'd rather not," Zack said, rather distracted eating. There was nothing wrong with his appetite.

"When you're done, we've got Nikolas ready for a conference call once we get the monitor set up," Drew said. "Well, we're sort've repurposing the TV in here."

"With permission!" Benji defended. "Here, you do the techie shit, Kunsel."

Kunsel snorted, but obligingly got up to see about messing with the cables and getting it hooked up to the laptop Drew had brought.

"I can talk while I eat," Zack said. "I mean, if no one minds."

"Might be best, a full stomach might make you sleepy," Drew admitted. "We'll put in the call, then."

A few more moments fussing with the hookup and the TV flickered, showing their fourth remaining First, flanked by a few of the Seconds he worked closest with. "Good to see you, Zack."

"Good to see you too, Nik. Been a while." He waved. "'Scuse me while I finish up, I like my hot food hot."

"Makes sense to me," he said. "So. We're discussing this setup the director was suggesting, for some internal command. I like the idea. It gives us more independence, and might set us up for eventually being entirely under SOLDIER oversight."

"That'd be great," Kunsel said. "I'm all for working with Torvik but someone who really _gets_ SOLDIER would be better. Someone with first-hand experience."

"Yeah… on that note, we've been debating another general-and-commanders situation," Drew said. "If we count the cadets as a ranking, we could have one commander minding them, one over the Thirds, one over the Seconds, and the General over the Firsts, which means _overseeing_ the Commanders and getting an overview of the department as a whole."

"The work would be pretty evenly split up, just different _types_ of it," Nikolas said. "I already mind the academy, so handing the cadets to me makes perfect sense. It doesn't really change any of my duties."

"And you could overlap with Drew, handling the newbies," Benji said. "He's good with the greens. Better than I am. I never had the temperament for it. Now, the _Seconds_ I could do. They know what they're doing by then, they just need some polishing up. I can absolutely do that."

"… wait, wait," Zack said, holding up a hand. "That just leaves me."

"Well yeah." Benji grinned shamelessly. "And there's nobody better for the motivational posterboy than _you._"

Zack gaped at him. "I can't be a general!"

"Why not?" Drew asked.

"I'm _eighteen -_"

"Sephiroth was like, sixteen when they nominated him," Benji said.

"I'm not Sephiroth!" Zack protested. "Benji, I've been a First for like… a year. I was involved in _one mission_ in Wutai. I have _minimal_ live combat experience, because Angeal wanted me to focus on the 'foundations' before he sent me out, and then the defection happened and -"

"You went toe to toe with all three of the big three and came out on top," Drew said.

"Uh, no, that's propaganda. Genesis was dying, Angeal _wanted_ to die, and Sephiroth kicked my ass," Zack said flatly. "He almost killed me. I survived because he didn't think I was a threat worth bothering with and he'd just let me bleed out."

"You made First at seventeen. Only Sephiroth and Angeal made it younger," Benji said. "And so maybe you _don__'t_ have the exact same level of experience the rest of us do. That's just time, man. Time and practice is something anyone can do. You know what not everybody can do? _Inspire._ People _love you._ They _trust you._ Look up to you. You can't force that, people just… gravitate to some people more than others. And they've chosen you."

Zack made a quiet, whining sound. "But I _can__'t…_"

"You could," Kunsel said. "I could see it. Not without support, you're going to need the others' help."

"But you've got that," Drew said. "We'd be right behind you. We can handle most of the day to day stuff for our sections, you just… look at the big picture."

"I _suck_ at the big picture," Zack protested. "Seriously, I am the _definition_ of hyperfocused. And unfocused. And _no_ focused."

"It's not like you're the director, you'd basically be coordinating the three of us," Drew said. "Coordinate us, and go inspire people and put a friendly face on SOLDIER in the public's minds, which you're already doing. That's all you'd have to do. Anything else is bonus."

Zack hesitated, reaching instinctively for Kunsel's hand. "I want Kunsel."

"I mean, I think you'd need some heavy drugs and a crowbar to get him to leave you for months, and I'm not _sure_ that'd work," Benji said.

"No, I mean… I think better with him. He explains stuff, he _knows_ stuff, he can organize like nobody's business," Zack said. "I want him with me. Career Second or not, he's got the skills of a First."

"Then maybe it's time we make a tier for 'Seconds' who are Firsts in all but that last mako shot," Nikolas said. "Regardless, there's no reason he can't help you. Everyone's going to expect you two to be glued at the hip for a while anyway."

Zack nodded, squeezing Kunsel's hand. "You would, right?"

"Of course I would." Kunsel smiled reassuringly. "I've always had your back. That's not going to change just because of a shiny new title."

He nodded again, sighing. "_General Fair._ Damn that's weird. You're all crazy, you know that right? I haven't even been discharged from medical yet. We have no idea what I'm going to be capable of when I recover."

"Great things," Drew said confidently. "And in the meantime, you've got us handling the bulk of stuff. You'd be more of a figure head than anything, and the occasional 'final say' if we can't work some argument out. You're overseeing the overseers. That's not _nearly_ as bad."

"I'd rather work with the cadets," he muttered, sighing.

"No one said you can't pop in on anyone you want to," Drew said. "We probably will. We're just specializing now, too."

"And maybe we can pick some Seconds to delegate further with," Benji said. "Get a _real_ command structure going. With tiers and all."

"That might be a good idea. It'd make spreading communication and organizing everybody go faster," Nikolas said. "We'll take it as it comes. But it's a good start."

"Real good, yeah." Benji nodded. "Guess we'll let our new director know what we've decided on, then. Sounded like she wanted to leave that up to us, so we shouldn't get much resistance."

"No, she wants to leave us as independent as possible. It'll keep her able to do what she considers _her job,_" Nikolas said.

"Fine by me," Drew said. "I'd rather we handle ourselves anyway. It works better than having outsiders who don't really understand us coming in and botching things up."

"Agreed," Nikolas said. "So, all in favor?"

"You got it," Drew said.

"Absolutely," Benji said.

"I still think you're crazy," Zack informed them."But I'll do it, for SOLDIER."

"Atta boy." Benji grinned. "You wait and see. It's gonna suit you like a glove."

"I hate gloves," Zack said. "I wear them because it's a good idea, not because it's a fashion statement."

"You know what I meant, don't be a brat," Benji said. "Finish your food. We'll cut this short and discuss where everyone is and stuff together and update you later."

Zack wrinkled his nose. "I can listen while I eat."

"You sure? It's dry as hell," Benji warned. "Like, _seriously_ dry."

"I'll survive," he insisted. "And I want to know."

"Alright." He sighed, nodding to Drew. "Reports?"

Drew produced a file, flicking it open. "People are still restless and uneasy. We're all glad to have you back, but there's been some murmurs about what might be alternatives to our current situation."

"I think having Torvik instead of Heidegger will go a long way," Nikolas said. "Those that know her like her, and word gets around fast when someone's good to work with."

"And competent. Competent helps," Benji said.

"It does. And having more internal structure should be reassuring," Nikolas said. "People have questions. It gives them somewhere to go for answers."

"And if we can keep track of the ranks, _disappearances_ will be a lot harder to pull off," Benji said.

"Hopefully not a problem with a new administration, but I make no bets," Drew said. "Better to stack the deck in our favor."

"Back up a sec," Zack said. "On talk of defection - because I mean, that sure sounds like what you're all implying. How serious is that? Do we have people who really would leave, or is this like, just a thought going around but no one's actually gonna do it?"

The three older Firsts glanced at each other. "I mean… we were ready to take you and go, Zack."

Zack swallowed, touched by the sentiment but also wary of what that meant going forward. "So you're telling me the whole department has made peace with defecting and would be entirely cool with just… going. Whatever that takes."

"Yeah, pretty much," Drew admitted.

"Okay, that… that could be a problem," Zack said.

"Not necessarily," Nikolas said. "Not if we do it right. We're loyal to each other, above all else - that's what that's about. So if we establish leaders, and the leaders stay, then the lower ranks will follow. No one _likes_ the idea of being out _alone. _The world's not built for us, and we know it."

"Yeah… yeah, okay, maybe that'll work, then," Zack said. "I mean, if we can make a place that's not dead set on _killing us,_ I'd be okay trying again. The bar's not that high; let me do my job, and stop trying to kill me."

Benji snorted. "_And yet._"

"And yet," Drew agreed. "But we've got a promising start, with Torvik letting the four of us take command. And I believe her when she says she'd rather we handle ourselves and leave her time and energy to handle her old job."

"And I don't mind the idea of working under Tuesti, either," Nikolas said. "He's a good man."

"Which is weird as hell, but statistically had to happen at some point, I guess," Benji said. "We can try, at least. If they don't play ball, we'll go. But for now, we'll stay put."

Zack nodded. "Alright… yeah, that sounds best. For now, this is SOLDIER's home. And we're not letting someone just chase us out of it."


	18. Magic Tracks

"There ought to be a way to track her."

Veld glanced up from the map he'd been glowering at, arching a brow. He wasn't exactly in the mood for casual conversation with Rufus, but if he had something relevant to say he'd hear him out. "What?"

"Elfé," Rufus said. "She has a powerful summon implanted in her. There ought to be a way to track that."

Veld considered it, nodding slowly. "How do we track materia shipments?"

"That's more in line with SOLDIER or Science, but I imagine Reeve would have _some_ idea," Rufus said.

Veld nodded, getting his PHS out and dialling Reeve. "Quick question."

"_Hello to you too,"_ Reeve drawled. _"What can I do for you?"_

"How do you track materia?" He asked.

Reeve was silent a moment. _"Well. Active materia gives off energy, and a well-timed Sense spell could conceivably work. But you'd have to be in fairly close range - pinpointing someone in a room, or a building at best. Which is not to say we couldn't possibly rig something, but I'd need time."_

"Time is something we don't have." Veld sighed.

"_Some of the enhanced should be able to help,"_ Reeve pointed out. _"Being able to sense charged materia is vital, it tells you what direction a spell is about to come from. Depending on the particular type of spell, there would also be atmospheric disturbances you could scan for - temperature changes, for example."_

"It's a summon, non-elemental," Veld said.

"_Well, that's definitely a lot of power being spent,"_ Reeve said. _"Hmm… there ought to be a way to scan for that… let me talk to my engineers."_

"Alright. I'll see what else I can come up with," Veld said. "Call me if you get something."

"_Of course."_

Veld sighed, hanging up. Every minute without a solution was another minute she was getting further away, and he didn't know what to do to fix it.

"He mentioned enhanced can sense active materia," Vincent said.

"I don't want SOLDIER in on this," Veld said. "Not if I can help it."

"I wasn't aware SOLDIER was your only option for an enhanced operative," Vincent said dryly.

Veld glanced at him, arching a brow. "You aren't exactly trained."

"I could sense magic before I was enhanced. I can figure it out," Vincent said. "Trigger one of your materia."

"I'm not triggering a summon inside, even if I had one," Veld said.

"Just _a_ materia. Put up a barrier, something benign," Vincent said.

Veld arched a brow, humming, but went along with it. It was little more than a moment's thought and the spell was cast, a barrier glimmering around him. "Feel that?"

Vincent nodded. "I do, yes. So I'd be looking for something taking a lot more energy than that, constantly at least on some level."

"You think you can do that?" Veld asked softly.

"I think it's worth a shot," he said. "Where do you want me to start?"

* * *

Vincent moved silently through Sector 6, on the outskirts of actually entering Wall Market, senses stretched as far as he could reach. It was extremely uncomfortable, bordering on over stimulation, but if he could just find a direction to go in he could narrow his focus down. He refused to go back to Veld empty handed, even if it meant he was out for hours.

They'd agreed to equipping some of the others with Sense and setting out a search in other sectors - that anyone who found something would call him, and they'd go from there. But in the meantime it left him prowling, trying to focus and not overdo it so badly he wouldn't be able to help if he _did_ find something.

When he did.

He could track as a Turk, he could _absolutely _track as whatever had been made of him now. Still a Turk, if he let Veld have his way. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Wasn't sure he _deserved _that, after failing his loved ones the way he had.

_I won__'t fail you again._

The thought was barely passed through his mind before something pinged his senses. He turned sharply, arching a brow and reaching. There was most _definitely_ someone with a very powerful magic signature there, packing some heavy duty materia. Frowning in concentration, he started that way at once, following his senses. The closer he got, the more distinct a feeling it was, but he was getting less convinced it was the right energy. It didn't feel like a summon. He wasn't sure _what_ it was, though, it didn't feel like any materia he was familiar with. Maybe, if pressed, like some hybrid between a Restore and a Barrier - something at once protective and healing.

There was, to his knowledge, no such materia. Then again, who's to say what might have been invented? He'd been gone for decades.

Too curious not to check it out, he followed his senses to an old building that he remembered having seen back in his Turk days, the church to an unknown god. It was in better condition than he'd expected, though there was a distinct, large hole in the roof.

Someone was inside.

Carefully, he made his way in, sticking close to the shadows as he took in the person he'd been sensing, power all the more potent at close range. She was just a slip of a girl, somewhere in her teens if he had to guess, bent over a flowerbed growing in the middle of the broken floor. She didn't look like she should be anywhere near as powerful as she undeniably was.

It occurred to him, belatedly, that as powerful as she was, as clearly as she lit up his senses… it would be _mutual._

She went still, not quite tense but most definitely aware, and slowly straightened, dusting dirt off her hands. "Hello?"

He couldn't bring himself to startle the girl and leave her wondering. He stepped out of the corner he'd been in, footsteps consciously audible. "Hello."

She turned quickly to face him, brows raising in surprise, but she smiled all the same. "Is… there something I can help you with?"

Vincent was silent a moment, debating. "I don't think so. I was looking for someone."

"It's just me here," she said.

"So it seems," he agreed. His senses said there was someone else, close and getting closer, but they didn't register as a threat so he ignored it.

It was her turn to be quiet, tilting her head as she watched him. "Who are you looking for?"

"A woman carrying a powerful materia," he said. "Different than yours. A summon."

"Different than…" Her eyes widened, hands half raising before she consciously lowered them.

"It's very unique," he observed.

"…yes," she said quietly. "Yours, too."

Vincent blinked. "Mine?"

She arched a brow. "You feel mine, but you can't feel yours?"

He looked down at his arms, as if a material bangle might have snuck on there when he wasn't looking. They were still bare.

"Never mind," she said. "It doesn't matter. You said you're looking for someone with a summon? How do you sense a summon, in particular?"

"It's active," he said. "Activated, rather. But the spell is incomplete."

She made a thoughtful sound. "You should be able to sense that, yes… but I didn't feel like that, surely?"

"No, not like a summon," he agreed. "Just… powerful."

"Powerful?_ Me?_" She stared at him, genuinely surprised.

"You have a great deal of potential," Vincent said. "Perhaps not fully accessed."

She seemed uneasy with the comment, inclining her head but not committing to anything. "A summon is a particular kind of energy, it should be something you can pick out… maybe I can help you find it."

"Whoa, now, let's not."

Vincent half turned, a hand on Cerberus' grip, only to arch a brow when he recognized one of Veld's Turks. He looked between the girl - who looked _distinctly_ annoyed - and the Turk - who looked very much alarmed - and came to a conclusion. "I was unaware there was a bodyguard rotation down here."

"I can handle myself, thank you, Rod," the girl said.

"Yeaaaah, look. I know him. An' I know you. An' I know this situation, which has the potential to go pear shaped _real fast,_ so no matter how 'powerful' Valentine says you are, you're not gettin' in on it," Rod said. "Chief would have my head on a platter, an' I like it where it is, yeah?"

She arched a brow, giving Vincent a speculative look. "You work with the Turks, but you have no idea who I am."

"I'm afraid not," Vincent admitted.

She smiled faintly, oddly _pleased_ about that. "Call Veld, then. Let him know I _insist_ on accompanying Mister…?"

"Valentine," he supplied. "Vincent Valentine."

Her brows rose. "_Goodness._ Today's a day for surprises. I'm Aerith Gainsborough."

"A pleasure, Aerith," Vincent said quietly. "But I wouldn't want to cause trouble."

"A little trouble does Veld good," she said airly. "It keeps him young. Besides, you need help, and I'm probably the only person who can keep up with you."

"Aw, shi- shoot, you're serious?" Rod groaned. "Aerith, c'mon now. Don't do this to me."

"Call Veld," she insisted. "Or I'll do it myself."

Rod made several increasingly distressed faces while he dug out his phone, dialing. "Chief? Your buddy found Aerith, and she wants to help him look for AVALANCHE."

"Hiii Veld," Aerith called. "Remind him I can sense magic _far_ better than he can."

Rod flapped a hand at her, scowling. "I think she's serious."

"_Of course she is._" Veld sighed. _"Tell her this is our operation, and she'll do what she's told._"

Rod snorted. "I can _try._"

"What did he say?" Aerith asked.

"He said this is a Turk operation; if you're gettin' in on it, you do as you're told," Rod said.

She hummed, clasping her hands. "I suppose that's fair."

Rod heaved a relieved sigh. "She said that's fair."

"_Make her promise,"_ Veld said.

"…good idea." Rod looked back at her. "Your word, Aerith."

"Doesn't trust me, hm?" She smiled. "He has my word. So long as they're _reasonable_ orders."

"She says as long as it's reasonable," Rod reported.

"_That's probably the best we're going to get,"_ Veld admitted. "_You all stay put, I__'m sending Reno and Rude your way. Valentine's in charge of the op, but Reno's in charge of Aerith."_

"You got it, boss," Rod said. "We're supposed to wait for backup."

Vincent arched a brow, but nodded. If Veld felt it was more important to wait for backup than to continue his search, he would trust his judgment. "Very well. We wait."

"Then _I_ am going to finish weeding," Aerith said, and went back to tending her flowers.

Vincent settled in to watch and wait, and wonder just who this girl was.


	19. Planet-Borne

After she finished weeding, Aerith rose, dusting her hands off again. "How soon will they be here?"

"'nother ten minutes, probably," Rod said.

"Hmm… might as well see what we can do from here," Aerith said. She looked back at Vincent, arching a brow. "You, come with me. Rod, you stay here."

"Nuh-uh, I'm supposed to be watchin' you," he reminded her, getting up off the pew he'd been sprawled on.

"We're just going to the altar, don't _fuss._" She sighed.

"…the altar?" Rod raised a brow, hesitant. "Uhm."

"Would you like to help?" She asked sweetly.

"I, uh…" He swallowed nervously. "I can watch from here."

"Thought so." She beckoned to Vincent and headed for the altar, kneeling beside it. It was nothing special, hardly even recognizable now after decades of neglect, just a raised wooden dais with faded inscriptions. "Come here, Vincent."

Vincent followed her, kneeling beside her when prompted. "What, exactly, are we doing?"

"Using your connection to the Planet," she said.

He glanced at her sharply. "I'm not."

"Pardon?"

"Connected to the Planet," he clarified. "My mother was a priestess, but the line was matrilineal and broke with me."

"You're still favored and carry the blessing of one of the Powers," she said. "But that's not what I meant."

He arched a brow at her. "Then what?"

"One of your… passengers," she said delicately, kindly not looking at him as he froze.

It took Vincent a moment to find his voice, hearing a low chuckle that wasn't his own. "One of my…"

"He's Planet-Borne," Aerith said. "And he _will_ help us."

Vincent blinked at her, feeling a faint flutter of amusement-not-his and shifting uneasily. He hadn't realized until this moment how _quiet_ his headmates had been since he'd come to Midgar. "You don't know what you ask."

She looked at him then, with a startling depth of _knowing_ in those vibrant green eyes. "I know more than you think."

He felt the dizzying sensation of Presence, the strongest of the spirits bound to him stirring. _'A bold little thing. The trust of a Cetra, and the blind courage of a human. Interesting.'_

Vincent arched a brow, frowning. A _Cetra? __'I thought they were dead.'_

'_People said as much about you,'_ the voice retorted, still rather amused. It was an easier feeling to bear than the overwhelming wrath that had consumed him for so long.

'_There's a difference between one man caught in the whims of science, and an entire race that's been unseen for millennia,'_ Vincent said.

'_Perhaps.'_ He seemed unconcerned with the distinction, merely curious. _'What does she want of me?'_

Vincent blinked a few times, refocusing and finding Aerith watching him patiently, with more than a hint of curiosity. "…he wants to know what you want."

"I want to know what the Planet thinks about this particular summon," she said. "You didn't explain much, but you said something about an incomplete summoning, and implied that it's been active for an extended period of time. I would think the Planet might have feelings about something like a summon being misused."

Vincent considered that a moment. "It's hard to think the Planet would notice just one person."

She smiled wryly. "You'd be surprised. And it doesn't hurt to ask."

"I don't know –" he paused, feeling a shift and swell of power, bracing himself at once. _'What are you doing?'_

'_What the little Cetra has asked. I would rather Minerva than Titan, but this will do.'_

"Relax," Aerith said softly, gently touching his arm. "It's okay."

"But -"

'_Don't make this difficult when it doesn't have to be. If you calm down, you can see what I'm doing,_' he said.

Vincent held his breath, eyes unfocusing as his attention turned inward. For a moment, the world shimmered green, and then went black. He tensed, gasping, and felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

"_Hush."_ The voice was deeper here, a low rumble just behind him, but he couldn't turn. He couldn't move with the hand on his shoulder, anchoring him in place. "Stay, and be still."

It was an act of sheer willpower to nod, trying to focus as he watched tendrils of green start to creep into his field of vision. Slowly at first, they began to fill in the invisible 'ground' until he was up to his knees in a flow of pulsing green energy. _'What is this?'_

His voice echoed oddly, not unlike the Other. Did that mean they were inside _his_ mind?

"A mere projection of the Lifestream." Out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out a figure, taller than him with silver skin and glowing gold eyes. "Listen."

For lack of having any idea what to do, Vincent let his eyes close and listened. There was a low rumble, like rushing water, but he couldn't make out anything coherent.

Then there was a flicker.

His eyes opened automatically and briefly he could make out a distant, familiar figure, a woman in green with a katana on her back. Her hand pulsed red, energy he could feel even at a distance, but… _twisted._ Corrupted, somehow. As if she felt his gaze, she looked up, staring at him with hollow, exhausted eyes. The rumble got louder.

And then it was all gone, and he was back in the church.

Aerith was staring at him with wide eyes, slightly dilated. "…well?"

"I… don't understand," he said quietly, a little dazed.

'_The Planet is displeased,'_ the voice rumbled. _'The summons were a gift, and this one has been corrupted. It's a threat.'_

"What did he say?" Aerith asked softly. At his confused look, she gestured to his face. "Your eyes change when he's speaking. What did he say?"

"He said the Planet is 'displeased' and sees the summon as a threat," Vincent said.

Aerith made a quiet, concerned sound. "Then we have to hurry, before it does something about it."

"…what can it do?" Vincent asked.

Aerith arched a brow. "Chaos isn't the only WEAPON."

"Chaos?" The name resonated with him. He remembered stories of Chaos, from when his father had been studying Omega.

'_Had your father a little more restraint, we wouldn't be in this situation, my host,'_ the dark voice said.

Vincent considered that. '_You__'re Chaos, then.'_

'_I am,_' he said simply, as if a mortal being bound to a demi-WEAPON was something of no consequence.

He was going to need to think about that. Maybe he should have read his own files before Felicia's…

"The fun has arrived, yo," Reno announced, slipping into the church with Rude a step behind. "Let's get the ball rollin' yeah? We're on a time limit."

"Of course." Aerith rose, smoothing out her dress and picking up a staff from behind the altar. "We're ready."

"This is your show, Valentine," Reno said. "Where're we goin'?"

Vincent was silent a moment. "Where are the exits?"

Reno hummed. "You think they're bookin' it outta town, huh? Not a bad idea. I'll give you a list. They'll have t' take a road out, there's no gettin' a group that big through the cracks with any kind of speed. Not if they've got stuff with 'em."

Vincent nodded, glancing at Aerith. "Go with them. Don't engage, if you locate them, just track."

"Damn good idea, we'll do that," Reno said. "Rod, you go with Valentine. Been a while since he's run these grounds, yeah? A little familiarity with the status quo'd help out."

"You got it, boss," Rod said, nodding.

Vincent glanced at the rookie, smiling faintly behind his collar. "Just keep up."

"Pft, I got it, don't you worry. Let's rock." He tossed a lazy salute. "I got my phone, you need somethin'."

"Same. Keep in touch," Reno said. "You guys check the west end, first. It's closer to Junon."

Vincent nodded. He glanced at Aerith one more time, not sure what to say, and in the end said nothing. He hurried out, Rod hot on his heels.

* * *

In the end, they both found signs of AVALANCHE headed out of Midgar - moving in smaller groups, to avoid detection. Unfortunately, there was no way to move in on them without the troopers Heidegger happened to have on patrol noticing, and no sign of Elfé in either group. Which meant they had already made it further out into the Wastes, disappearing into canyons and crevices on the way to Junon. That would take some searching.

They returned back to the church, Reno briefly on the phone with Veld. "Chief's callin' us back in to regroup, see about how we're gonna move forward with this."

Vincent nodded. "That makes sense."

"I assume I'm gonna finish out my shift?" Rod said. "I mean, 'less Aerith's comin' with us."

Aerith bristled. "I've already told you, I'm not joining ShinRa."

Reno shrugged, tapping his EMR against his leg. "Dunno anybody's gonna be askin' that anymore. Hojo's dead. So is the President. An' Reeve an' Rufus don't care."

Aerith startled. "…_what?_"

"Valentine's work, neat as you please," Reno said, smirking. "They ain't gonna bother _anybody_ anymore."

Aerith stared at Vincent in shock.

Vincent shrugged. "There were many reasons."

"I don't doubt," she said dryly. "It's just… unexpected, to think the Turks would go from _protecting them,_ to…"

"Hey we're lookin' real hard for the assassin, y'know. There just weren't any clues. They were real good. Trained." Reno grinned lazily. "Can't find somethin' if there's nothin' to see."

"Like a ghost," Vincent deadpanned, though his eyes gleamed at Reno's laughter.

"Yeah, like a ghost." He smirked, shaking his head. "So yeah, you do what you want, Aerith, but I don't think anybody's gonna be botherin' you. Chief might even let up on the guard, eventually."

"I see." She made a thoughtful sound, watching them. "You're sure they're gone?"

"Yeaaah, old man was _very_ dead, an' if Valentine hadn't finished off the Professor, SOLDIER would have," Reno said. "They're very, very dead."

Aerith nodded. "And I suppose, with all this going on, there's no way to talk to Veld or Tseng down here?"

"I mean, I could give you my phone for a minute, but not in person," Reno said. "Why?"

Aerith twirled her staff slowly. "I think I'd like to have a word."

Reno's brows rose and he glanced at Rude, who had gone rather still in that telling sort of incredulous way he had. He looked back at her, watching the very deliberate way she handled her staff, and grinned. "Y'know what? I'm game."


	20. Sense-Able

They made their way up to the Plate in relative silence, though Reno and Rod promptly flanked Aerith as they got out of the train station into Sector 1's plaza. Reno placed a hand on her back when she sucked in a breath, staring up into Midgar's dim sky. "I know. But starin' makes it worse."

"Oh my god," she whispered, clutching at her staff.

"Yeah, it's freakin' _huge,_" Reno agreed. "C'mon, 's not a long walk but it's long enough."

"Okay," she said softly. "I'm… okay. It's just…"

"We get it," Rod said. "Grew up down there too, y'know? Spent my first _week_ plateside hidin' in the tower."

Aerith managed a strained giggle at that, but let them lead her, hands clutching her staff until her knuckles went white and followed them quickly across the plaza. She didn't relax until they hit the lobby, making a little sound of relief and stopping to catch her breath.

"You good?" Reno asked softly, watching her.

"I'm good," she breathed. "It's just… a lot."

"Understatement," Rod said. "But we get it."

"We do," Reno agreed, patting her shoulder. "Well c'mon, you can talk t' Tseng while we report in to the chief."

Aerith nodded, following him towards the elevator, her gaze distant as she tried to make sense of all the energy in the building. More than anything, the bright spots of _so many enhanced_ had her reeling, like staring into streetlights and seeing nothing but afterimages when you looked away. It was impossible to focus on anything else, so she started going through them, looking for someone - _anyone_ \- familiar enough to anchor herself.

And gasped.

Reno jerked to a halt, looking at her. "What?"

Aerith reached with her energy, testing what she was feeling, making _sure_ of what she was feeling, then glowered up at Reno, getting a fistful of his shirt and tugging him to her level. "I was told Zack Fair was _dead._"

"Oh." Reno gently laid a hand over her fist, offering a lopsided smirk. "Have I got a _story_ for you."

"I want to see him," she said.

"Thought you wanted to see Tseng?" He asked.

"Tseng would not like me right now," she said flatly. "_He_ was the one who _lied to me._"

"Fair 'nuff," he said. "So, uh. Hm."

"I'll take her. Chief never took me off guard duty," Rod pointed out.

"Do that. Just no discussin' what we just did, alright?" Reno gave Aerith a look. "'S classified."

"_Fine,_ I just want to see Zack," Aerith said.

"Alright. Go on, then. We'll catch up later." Reno waved them on. "Call Balto if you need directions."

Rod nodded. "Should be fine, unless they moved him."

"Nah, he's still in the same spot." Reno waved them off with a sigh. "C'mon Rude. You comin' with to report, Valentine?"

Vincent nodded. "I intend to."

"Great."

Aerith didn't pay attention to their fading conversation, following Rod to the elevator that would take them to medical and counting the floors as they headed there. She was surprised to be met by Cissnei as they entered, and scowled at her. "Did you _know?__"_

"Most of us didn't," Cissnei said, not needing any elaboration on just what had Aerith up in arms. "This was news to me."

She was mildly placated, but only just. "Take me to him. Is he awake? How is he?"

"He's awake, and healing up well. Come on." She turned back, heading through for Zack's room. "He's in here, give me a minute so we don't give him a heart attack."

Aerith nodded, waiting anxiously until Cissnei poked her head back out and waved her in.

Zack was sitting up in bed, Kunsel at his side, and greeted her with a wide, warm smile. "Hey, Aerith."

Aerith made an inarticulate sound of relief, and the moment he held open an arm hurried in for a hug. She was careful, she could feel the pain in him, knew he had to have been through something _horrible,_ but it was Zack and he was there and real and not dead and she could feel the tears start up. "Gods, _Zack__…_"

"I'm here," he said quietly. "Doing better by the hour."

"He really is," Kunsel said. He smiled understandingly, because if _anyone_ would get it he would.

She nodded, wiping at her eyes with a sniffle. "They said…"

"I know. And most of them believed it, too," Zack said. "But I'm not, I'm right here. And I'm gonna be okay. Got a good medical team saying so and everything."

"Okay," she whispered. "Can I come visit?"

"I'd like that," Zack said. "I assume the Turks must think it's safe now?"

"With Hojo and the President dead… I mean, unless there's _new_ people who want me for something, I should be," she said.

"Our new president really doesn't strike me as the sort," Kunsel said. "He's more…"

"Domestic," Zack said. "He's not the war type, I don't think. Or the dubious science type. I mean, I don't know him well, but sometimes you can just… _tell._"

"You've always been good at reading people," Aerith said.

"He has," Kunsel agreed. "And I agree with him. Plus, I don't think Faraman would have nominated him for the presidency if he thought we were just getting an old man Shinra 2.0, you know?"

"No, probably not." She sighed, running a hand over her braid as she looked around, then frowned, settling on Cloud. "Oh… what happened to your friend? That's Cloud, isn't it?"

"Yeah, he was with me when… things went down in Nibelheim," Zack said. "He's got mako poisoning. Rayleigh's pretty sure he'll come out of it, but she can't tell me _when,_ or… y'know, how he'll be when he does. Physically he's adjusting pretty quickly, but…"

"He's lost," Aerith said quietly.

"What?"

Aerith bit her lip, debating how to word it. "Mako comes from the Lifestream, and sometimes the Lifestream can be… a lot, even here in Midgar with the reactors strangling it down to a trickle."

"We were in mako tanks," Zack said. "Would that do it?"

"It might," she said. "If you're sensitive to it, you can hear things. And it can get confusing to try to focus on your own thoughts."

"Given he was already traumatized…" Kunsel trailed off.

Aerith nodded. "It could be too much to deal with right away."

"So what do we do?" Zack asked. "If he's lost, how do we find him again?"

Aerith debated it, looking at him. "Talk to him. Even if you think he can't hear you, there's a good chance familiar voices will drag him back to awareness. It may take time, and it may look like it's not working, but eventually it should anchor him back to reality. Especially if you can explain what's happened to him. To tell him he's safe now, that the pain is over, that no one's going to hurt him anymore. That there's nothing to hide from now. Because he might be hiding, too. Trying to block it all out."

"I wouldn't blame him if he was," Zack said quietly. "I mean, mostly he worked on me, but he spent a while just… testing him, before he shot him up with who knows what and stuck him in the tank. I haven't seen his files, Rayleigh's not going to clear that without his permission, I guess?"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality," Kunsel said. "Standard for, you know, actual _moral_ physicians."

"So they tell me." Zack sighed. "Something to adjust to. I mean, I'm grateful, but it's new."

"Yeah." Kunsel squeezed his hand. "We'll work with her, he'll be alright."

"…maybe I can help," Aerith said thoughtfully. "I can feel him, a little. I might be able to help you guide him back."

Zack perked up at once. "I mean, I'd try anything if it'll help his recovery."

"As long as you don't set _yours_ back," Kunsel said.

"No, nothing like that," Aerith promised. "Just… basically, _talk to him._"

Zack blinked. "That's it?"

"That's mostly it," she agreed. "Physical contact would be good, too, but talking to him would help. He's stuck in his own mind, but that doesn't mean he's _entirely_ unaware of the outside world."

"Yeah, okay…" He nodded, shifting a little to look over. "Uhm… how do I start?"

"Explain what's happened, I think," Aerith said. "As simply as possible."

"Right, okay." He cleared his throat, debating a moment. "Okay. So uhm. You remember waking up to Hojo. I'm pretty sure that's… real clear. And he had us for something like, three weeks, but the sedatives wore off me once when he'd been working and my soulmate - you remember Kunsel, right? - he felt it. And he came with a bunch of SOLDIERs and Turks and they rescued us, and brought us back to Midgar."

"Hojo's dead," Kunsel added.

"_Oh,_ yeah uh, Hojo is _very_ dead so we are never, ever going back there," Zack agreed. "We're being taken care of by someone else, Professor Rayleigh? She's real nice and - hey wait, wait did your eyes move? Did his eyes move?"

"They flicked a little," Kunsel said.

"He's listening," Aerith said.

"We've been in here talking ever since we got here," Kunsel said. "That might have helped perk him up."

"It could have," she agreed. "Familiar voices probably helped."

"_Epic,_" Zack said, grinning. "Alright, spike, let's see about waking you up proper."


	21. Bonded

Zack talked to Cloud for a while, telling him about what had happened since their return, and taking the time to introduce and explain everyone who had been involved so far, down to vague physical descriptions and humorous anecdotes.

Kunsel admired but was not at all surprised by his ability to just… talk, especially given what was riding on it. He helped where he could, filling in details or just adding little side notes to help keep the one-sided conversation going. It seemed like Cloud had roused a little - well, that or he was dreaming - but there was _something_ going on, and you couldn't help but be hopeful that it meant Aerith's uncanny way of _knowing_ things had kicked in this time too.

"We'd probably need like, a brain scan to be sure how much this is working," Zack admitted. "He looks like he's doing _something _though, with his eyes moving like that."

"You'd think," Kunsel agreed.

"He feels closer," Aerith said. "I think it's working. Obviously a test would be more conclusive, but… it _feels _right."

"That's something, at least. Given the current medical advice is just… 'wait for him to wake up' I'm _all_ for actually actively trying something," Zack said. "Even if it didn't work, it _feels_ like I'm helping. I kinda need that right now."

"We all do," Kunsel said, reaching over to hug him.

"Some music with lyrics might work, later, too," Aerith said. "Especially if it's something he knows and likes. Not very loud, but loud enough he can make it out, if the doctor would clear it."

"No idea, but I can ask," Kunsel said. "We can at least see."

Aerith moved to his side, looking at him with concern. "I don't know if there's anything _else_ I can do… mako poisoning isn't like regular poisoning."

"No, it's not," Zack agreed. "I wish it was. That's so much more straightforward, and you can take the edge off of it with a good Heal or two."

Aerith nodded, reaching over and gently brushing back a few gold spikes.

She jerked her hand back with a gasp.

"Aerith?" Zack sat up, ignoring the brief spike of pain. "Aer, what's wrong?"

"I can _hear him,_" she whispered, eyes huge as she hovered her hand over his cheek.

"Hear what?" Zack frowned, then made a strangled sound. "You can hear his _thoughts? _Wait, you've got a telepathic bond - you're _soulmates?_"

Aerith made a breathless sound, resting a hand over his forehead. Her eyes unfocused and she swayed a little. "_Oh…_"

"Hey now, don't you go getting lost too," Kunsel said, getting up. "Aerith? Hey, look at me."

"Not lost, but… I think he can hear me," she managed, still looking distracted, focused on something none of them could see. "I can bring him back."

"Just be _careful,_" Kunsel said, ready to snatch her hand away. He wasn't sure if it would help or not, though; it might have just been touch-triggered, and not touch-_reliant. _Psychic bonds of any kind were rare enough that there just wasn't a sample size to say all or even most worked a particular way.

"Do you want me to hit my call button?" Zack asked, reaching for the button for the nurse. "I think this kinda qualifies as _important._"

"Give it a minute," Kunsel said. "If she gets any more out of it, we'll call."

"I'm fine," Aerith said, though she was still staring off at nothing, voice taking on a sleepy, almost dreamy quality. "Just… give me a minute."

"I will _literally count_ sixty seconds in my head," Zack warned.

She hummed softly, absently petting Cloud's hair as her eyes fluttered shut. Beneath closed lids, his moved rapidly, and he turned his head into her hand with a breathy sound.

For a moment, Zack forgot to count, the world seeming to freeze as dazed blue eyes slit open.

"Cloud?" Zack whispered.

"…I'll have someone go find the professor," Kunsel decided.

"…Zack?" Cloud's voice was rough and raw, little more than a whisper itself, but enough for enhanced senses to still pick up easily. "You're… okay?"

Zack made a relieved sound, blinking rapidly against the threat of tears. "Yeah, buddy. I'm okay. We're both okay. Better than okay. We've got our soulmates."

"Soulmates?" He repeated, sounding a little lost still, before turning his head and looking up at Aerith. He offered her a sleepy, shy smile. "Oh. Hi."

Aerith giggled, still looking not completely in the moment herself. "Hi there. You've been through a lot, huh? Thank you for coming back."

"Coming… back?" He repeated, looking like it was a bit of a strain to try and process things at their usual speed.

"We can talk about it later, sweetheart," Aerith said. "We've got time."

"…okay," he agreed, fumbling for her hand and holding it gently in his own.

They had a few moments to just look at each other, savoring their connection, before rapid footsteps led to Rayleigh and Jack hurrying in. "He's _awake?_"

"Psychic bond," Zack said helpfully. "She uhm… got in his head and woke him up, I guess."

"I see." Rayleigh arched a brow, watching them a moment before coming over. "I'm going to ask you a few questions while Jack checks your vitals. Can you tell me your name?"

Cloud blinked at her with wide, dilated eyes. "Cloud… Strife."

"That's correct. Do you know where you are?" She asked.

Cloud looked around, then glanced at her. "…medical?"

"That's correct," she agreed. She went through several other things - his ID number, his birthdate, his enlistment date - most of which he got, though he blanked a couple times along the way.

It was honestly better than _anyone_ had been expecting for some time. Just hearing him _coherent _was enough to leave Zack reeling. He'd _hoped,_ of course he had but… deep down, he had expected this was going to be a long, hard road.

And here he was, talking and smiling and -

"He's going to be alright," Kunsel murmured, getting up on the bed with him again, mindful of the IVs in his arm.

"Yeah." Zack swallowed hard. "Yeah, he will. We'll make sure, right?"

"Of course." Kunsel nodded, fingers playing through Zack's hair. It soothed them both, and right then they needed the grounding.

Zack tipped his head into the gentle touch, sighing. "I mean, I knew he'd be okay. He's too stubborn not to pull out of it. But…"

"Yeah, I know. That's a lot for anybody," Kunsel said. "He's still going to need therapy. Probably several kinds of therapy. But he's going to be okay."

"Yeah." Zack sighed, smiling. "Yeah, he is."

* * *

Veld wasn't surprised to get a call from Cissnei updating him on things. He was _very_ surprised to find out that Aerith and _Cloud Strife_ were not only soulmates, but had a psychic bond. Considering the sort of powers she had… that could be interesting. Like so many other things, there would be _consequences_ to this, but he was wound too tight to look at them all, beyond wondering how this would affect SOLDIERs' tenuous ties to the company. Aerith was not by any means _fond,_ and he wouldn't count on any sort of attachment to the Turks. Theirs had always been a complicated relationship. Even though she'd been under their protection, he suspected she resented their presence and what it represented. Did she even understand how long he'd lied to Hojo and the President on her behalf?

"I take it that wasn't good news," Vincent said. He'd been a constant presence since he'd returned, a silent shadow lingering in his office while he'd tried to sort through the information Maur had dug up and figure out how to go forward with AVALANCHE. As a group, they needed stopped. It was hard not to focus on his daughter first.

"I have no idea," Veld admitted. "It was news. It'll be _something._ But I make no bets where Aerith Gainsborough is concerned."

Vincent hummed softly, not familiar enough to weigh in. Tseng could have. He might have to pull him aside for this… even as upset as she was with him, they'd always had a bond. It was unavoidable, as long as they'd known each other.

"I suppose you'll see," Vincent said.

"I suppose I will," he agreed, sighing. "I need to make rooming arrangements, she's going to want to stay near her soulmate, which means somewhere Plateside."

"With one of your Turks, perhaps?" Vincent suggested.

"Mm. Cissnei, maybe. They've always gotten along," Veld said, tapping his desk with a sigh. There was just so much to do, so much to _process…_ a hand settled on his shoulder and he startled a little, not having seen Vincent move. "…you need to stop that."

Vincent just smiled, clearly pleased with the ability to sneak up on him, but it faded into something gentler. "You can handle this."

"I _have to,_" Veld said. "Failure isn't an option."

"Just let your people help," Vincent said. He squeezed his shoulder. "All your people."

Veld glanced at him. "That count you?"

"You know I could never be anything less," Vincent said.

Veld made a quiet sound. "Here I thought you wouldn't stay."

Vincent shook his head. "I can't leave you like this."

Veld smirked. "Afraid I'll get reckless, huh?"

"It looks like you've left a distinct gap at your back," Vincent observed. "Someone has to fill it."

Veld looked at him for a long moment. "You know no one could have ever taken your place, Vincent. I didn't even try."

Vincent was silent at that, hand tightening on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I left you behind. Sorry things ended that way."

"She was your soulmate, Vin," he said gently. "Of course you fought for her."

"She wasn't the one who would have laid their life on the line for me," Vincent said quietly. "She wasn't the one who knew me better than I knew myself."

He couldn't look away, listening to him. They'd always been like that, been so close the line between them blurred.

Sometimes, it felt like it should have been another name on his wrist, another mark on Vincent's hip. But they'd never said it before, because they'd both been raised too old fashioned; you had someone you were meant for, and you waited for them. And they'd done that.

But Vincent had never truly had Lucrecia, and Jess hadn't even been thirty when he'd lost her. They were the only ones still standing.

Together.

Vincent squeezed his shoulder. "I won't take that for granted again, Veld. I'm not going anywhere."

Veld covered his hand with his own. "I'm counting on it."


	22. Debt Due

By the second day since he'd woken, Cloud was actually fairly alert and coherent, though it was clear he was going to need some therapy to adjust to his new enhancements. Zack was estimating him around Third Class level, to go by his eyes and his fumbling with new strength and senses, and that was always a learning curve. Fortunately, _all_ the SOLDIERs there had been through that already. He would have ample help adjusting.

"When can we get out of here?" Zack asked. "I've gone home with worse injuries than this, it's just a bad cut now. She said we're both stable, so as long as someone's with us I don't see why we have to be _here._"

"I'll ask," Kunsel promised. He certainly would _rather_ take Zack home. No one liked medical, and he knew it was making Zack and Cloud especially uneasy after weeks trapped in a lab.

"Thanks, babe." Zack sighed. "At least we're not stuck in hospital gowns."

"Small mercies," he agreed.

"Hey, man, I'll take it." Zack shook his head. "And the guys keep sneaking us real food, which is great. I don't think I could survive on the regular stuff here, I really don't. I mean, I paid my dues in bootcamp, I have had _enough_ of mess-quality food. Just because SOLDIERs _can_ eat anything doesn't mean they should _have to._"

"I hear you." Kunsel chuckled.

"And speaking of, I smell… eggs. And cheese. And _sausage_," Zack said, perking up.

"Quiche," Aerith informed him. "Cissnei let me use her oven."

"Bless her." Zack made grabby hands.

"Patience," she scolded. "Cloud, are you up honey?"

"'M awake," he murmured, yawning widely and sitting up.

"Just barely, I see." She chuckled, handing over a plate with a generous slice. "Here. Breakfast."

"Ooh? Thank you," he said, looking a little more awake with something to focus on.

Zack and Kunsel were quick to thank her for their portions, Zack digging in to his immediately.

Aerith chuckled, watching them. "I might just feed you again."

"_Yes_ please," Zack said around a rather large bite, too hot to swallow right away but refusing to spit it out.

"It's really good," Cloud said.

"Good. You all could use it," she said, drifting over to stand beside Cloud, absently rubbing his back.

He leaned towards her with a quiet sound, taking comfort in her presence and the quiet background buzz of her thoughts. "So what are you up to today?"

"I need to talk to Veld," Aerith said. "I'm not sure how long that will take, so I wanted to stop in here first."

"I'm glad you did," Kunsel said.

"I bet you are." She chuckled. "You all can finish that and give the pan back to Cissnei when you're done, if I don't come back first."

"Will do. She's on guard today?" Kunsel asked.

"I don't know, but I'm sure she'll drop by," she said. "I know Balto is."

He nodded. "Yeah, I think he's got a permanent standing here."

"Might as well, the way he fusses," Zack said. "As if he didn't just like, fall off the edge of the earth for years without so much as a by-the-by. It's no big deal when _he's_ supposedly dead."

Kunsel snorted, amused. "It's always easier to hold someone else to a standard."

"I guess." Zack sighed.

"There's been entirely too much of this 'I thought you were dead' going around," Aerith said, scowling.

"Yeah, not that we _want_ people to be dead, but I'd rather not think that in the first place," Kunsel said.

"You're looking for someone else?" Cloud ventured, looking to Aerith. He looked a little embarrassed when she glanced at him. "Your thoughts get loud when you're worked up."

"_Oh,_ I'm sorry." Aerith sighed. "Yes. I'm… well. I want to help Veld, even if I'm still mad at him."

"With his daughter?" Kunsel asked. "I was there when he found out, in Nibelheim."

"Oh. Yes, her." Aerith nodded. "He's figured out how to track her, but they left Midgar so it's going to be difficult to track her down until they get to Junon."

"Junon's a big city to find a single person who doesn't want to be found," Kunsel said.

"I guess they know where a lot of the hideouts she'd use are," Aerith said.

"…the head of the Turks' daughter is in _AVALANCHE?_" Cloud blurted, eyes wide, and Aerith winced. "Oh, uhm. Sorry."

"Seriously?" Kunsel arched a brow, whistling softly. "No wonder he's kept quiet. How'd she fall in with them?"

"He doesn't know. I'm not sure it was voluntary," Aerith admitted. "But he wants to talk to her, at least. Find out what's going on, and try to talk her down."

"Scuttlebutt says one of AVALANCHE's leaders was killed," Kunsel said. "I'm not surprised they've gone to ground. How's he tracking her?"

"She apparently has a very powerful, semi-active materia with her," Aerith said. "A summon."

"And you can feel summons when they're active," Zack said. "And magic in general, but especially summons."

"Really?" Cloud said. "Is that a SOLDIER thing?"

"I think it's a mage thing," Kunsel said. "Or anyone who has enough exposure."

"Like SOLDIER," Zack said. "More than Turks, I'd think."

"They've got Sense materia and I think someone's rigging a device to help use that on a larger scale," Aerith said.

"Seems dicey," Zack said, frowning. He looked at Kunsel. "Our guys would stand a better chance, especially if she _uses_ that summon."

Kunsel arched a brow. "Are you suggesting we do something about it?"

"I mean, I'm not an AVALANCHE fan but… he helped us," Zack said.

"Pay the debt," Kunsel said. "Yeah, okay. I can ask around, I guess."

"You should talk to him first," Aerith said. "I can let him know you're willing to work with him, though."

"Do that," Kunsel said. "And I'll make some discreet inquiries. We've still got some pretty good mages left."

"I'd do it myself but they're not discharging me to active duty, I don't think," Zack said.

"No, _not_ you," Aerith said. "But… some help from SOLDIER might be a good thing, and I don't think he's in a position to turn it down. I'll tell him and have him call you."

"I've got my phone," Kunsel said.

Aerith nodded. "I'll go talk to him."

She kissed Cloud's cheek, giggling when he blushed, and ducked out to immediately find Cissnei waiting. "Heard you want to talk to the Chief."

"…yes?" Aerith blinked. "Is that a problem?"

Cissnei hummed. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

"Ominous," she muttered, following her to the elevator.

"Did they like the quiche?" Cissnei asked.

"Of course. SOLDIERs are always hungry." She chuckled. "Quickest way to their hearts is through their stomachs."

"I'll keep it in mind," Cissnei said. She watched the floors climb, silent a moment. "He's in his office with Valentine and Rufus."

Aerith nodded. She wasn't worried about Vincent, but the Vice President… well, it made her a little nervous, despite the Turks' reassurances that they weren't interested in her heritage. Not that she'd openly used any skills that were that were that rare. Not where they'd noticed, at least. "Lead the way."

"Mmhm." Cissnei nodded to her as the doors opened, leading her past a hall of closed doors and down to the open bullpen, where several Turks looked up, some calculating but none surprised.

News, Aerith supposed, traveled fast.

It wasn't much further to Veld's office. A quick knock on the door gained them entry, and Aerith slipped in.

Her first thought was that he looked more tired than she'd seen him in a long time. Not that they'd crossed paths often, but he'd made time, now and then, to slip under the Plate and see her. Usually in the church, to save her mother stress. But he smiled, if faintly, waving her in.

"Aerith, this is Rufus Shinra. Rufus, Aerith Gainsborough," Veld said. "You've met Vincent."

"I have, yes," she agreed. She smiled tentatively at Rufus, getting one back that would have been charming if his name alone didn't make her nervous. She'd have to get over that. "A pleasure."

"Mine as well," Rufus said evenly. "Would you like me to step out for a moment, Veld? Let you… catch up?"

"For a minute," Veld agreed. "Go get some coffee and poke at Tseng a little. He's mapping out locations."

"I'll do that." He rose smoothly, passing by Aerith with a murmured '_excuse me'_ and ducking out.

Veld waited until the door was closed, arching a brow. "Somehow, I don't think 'what did you do' is an inappropriate question, is it?"

Aerith smiled wryly. "Do you read everyone so well, or is it just me?"

"I've got a talent for it," Veld said. "Comes with the territory."

She sighed, taking a seat. "You know Cloud can hear my thoughts."

He nodded. "I was told, yes."

"I was thinking about helping you with your daughter," she said, watching as he tensed immediately. "But it may have turned out for the better."

Veld arched a brow. "Oh do tell."

"SOLDIER wants to help."


	23. The Waiting Game

Apparently, SOLDIER believed in paying their debts. Given most of them lived by an internal code of honor, Veld decided it was safe to cash in. After all, while they certainly had the _advantage,_ they had to know that they wouldn't get out of a fight with the Turks unscathed, and didn't seem eager to find out just how bad the fallout would be. For now, they were at a tentative truce, and so long as it continued to work in joint favor, it seemed likely to hold.

It was secure enough that he felt safe putting weight on it. Zack and Kunsel seemed genuinely inclined to help, and even if it was only to repay a perceived debt, he was willing to work with it to get his daughter back.

There were many benefits to working with SOLDIER, not the least of which was the fact that they had the best mages in ShinRa. Sure, Rhapsodos had been the best of the best, but he was far from the only one with magic skill. He was sure there had been parallels drawn between he and Richards - the two red headed swordmages with hot tempers and a penchant for destruction were pretty similar at a glance. Genesis had had a charming way with words when he cared to and a classier sort of bearing that Benji most definitely did not, but he'd also had a hard time working with the army, who mostly seemed alright with Benji. There were tradeoffs, and while he wouldn't have necessarily picked one over the other, he felt fairly confident with the one he was left with.

And he certainly got along well enough with Reeve, which was the biggest part at the very moment.

"What have we got, gentlemen?"

"He was showing me how SOLDIER networks their materia," Reeve said. "It's fascinating. You know how you can link materia, of course?"

"I'm familiar." He had linked slots in his prosthetic, in fact, and he'd made good use of them.

"It's a similar principle, but it's linked entirely through the mage, not a device," Reeve said. "Which does make sense as an option, if you have that sort of refined control and the power to do it with - after all, people were casting free handed before the invention of modern bracers."

"So, what do you do?" Veld asked.

"It's all mental," Richards said. "You have to know how to activate a materia without touching it, but once you can do that, all you have to do is reach for it."

"Not exactly a standard technique," Veld said.

"Yeah, well, it became standard in the higher ranks once you had to deal with people taking your weapons when they captured you," Richards said. "Just because we don't teach it formally doesn't mean it's not known. Just not something everybody puts the work into. It's not _easy._"

"And most people consider magic a fall back, not a specialty," Reeve said. "No, I do get it. But it's _fascinating._"

"So what's the practical application here?" Veld asked. "What are we doing?"

"We're grabbing a handful of SOLDIERs who know the technique, every last Sense we can find, and networking around some key areas that have been mapped out as likely locations they'd go to," Richards said. "If we're lucky, we'll get set up before they can settle in and your people can dig them out without too much fuss."

"If we're lucky, I can do it myself," Veld said.

Reeve gave him a sharp look. "You're not just running the operation, then. You're going."

"I am," Veld agreed.

Reeve frowned, but didn't argue it. He knew that wasn't one he was going to win. "You'll need to coordinate with whatever SOLDIER is masterminding it, then."

"That'd be me," Richards said. "They're mostly Nik's guys, sure, but this is my thing, more than his. He's gonna be back on base while I run the SOLDIER end of this."

"Then we'll be working together, yes," Veld agreed. He was silent a moment, thoughtful. "Can anyone with sufficient understanding of materia learn this?"

"Anyone with sufficient Will can learn it, but it takes a certain level of magic reserves to actually _do_ it," he said. "Why? You want to?"

"Not me," he said. "I've never been especially gifted with materia. But my partner's always had a flair for magic."

Richards arched a brow, but didn't question it. "I can work with him and see. We're on a close time schedule, though, so it's all up to how much time you're willing to have me spend on it."

"He's a quick study," Veld said. "I don't think it'll take long."

Richards clearly wasn't sure about that, but he shrugged. "Well, I'll give it a go, sure. Wouldn't hurt to have someone else on board who could do it."

"Good. I'll introduce you," Veld said. "What do I do in the meantime to get the ball rolling?"

"Send your partner down here, and get whoever you need ready to get going. We've got a good window before we absolutely have to leave for Junon, but I'd rather we be in place sooner than later. And we need to all be on the same page by the time we're settled."

Veld nodded. "Agreed. We'll finish deciding on the locations to put your networks down, assign teams, and get things in position."

"They won't be directly around the hideouts," Richards said. "Not to do the most good. We'll net out around entries and areas that they're most likely to have to pass through. They'll also be less likely to pick up on them there than they would be right around their own bases."

"Especially if they may be thinking there's a mole," Veld agreed. "Alright, do that, then."

Richards nodded. "I'll have it all mapped out in another ten minutes, so send your partner down at any time."

"Will do." Veld nodded. "Anything else? Reeve?"

"Not for me, no," Reeve said. "I'm just helping map things out, and then I'll prepare Cait to assist."

Veld nodded again. "Alright… I'll be in touch."

* * *

It was a painful eternity, waiting for things to fall into place. For entirely too long it felt like everything was moving at a crawl, and then all at once everything was happening, they were flying into Junon and getting the SOLDIERs into place, each with a Turk to help Veld keep eyes on the situation as a whole. It wasn't that he didn't trust SOLDIER, exactly - this would never work if he didn't trust SOLDIER - but there was just too much on the line to feel comfortable leaving it to them alone.

Vincent had learned the technique after a single demonstration and some practice on his own, much to Richards' shock. Veld wasn't surprised in the slightest; he'd always been an excellent student, _especially_ when he was actively interested in the lesson. Materia was just the sort of thing he liked learning little tricks for.

Which worked out _exceptionally_ well - Veld didn't need a SOLDIER with him. There was no one but Vincent to watch him wear a hole in the carpet as they waited, nervous energy jangling unpleasantly under his skin.

If AVALANCHE headed immediately for Junon, they could be there anywhere within the next couple hours. If they detoured… well, there was no telling. All they knew for sure was AVALANCHE had left Midgar. This was all a bet that might not pay off. There were other pockets of resistance, even just down to Fort Condor. There were other ports, though nothing anywhere near as good as Junon's. It would make _sense_ for them to come to Junon.

But they had to know that whoever had killed Fuhito had a similar thought. Would they come?

"Veld, if you do not _sit down,_ I will sit _on_ you," Vincent warned.

"Liar." Veld kept pacing.

"Have I ever lied about that?" Vincent asked.

"You've barely touched anyone since you've gotten back, you're not -" Veld jerked to a halt, the red mist that was somehow Vincent vanishing from where he'd been sitting to reform in front of him. "_Fuck,_ can you not?"

Vincent blinked down at him a moment, then held a gloved hand out, waiting patiently.

Veld watched him, rather startled by that turn of events. After a moment, he smiled ruefully and took it. He'd meant to hold lightly, not wanting to make him feel trapped - as much as you could trap a man who could turn to mist - but Vincent tightened his hold and gave a pointed tug, and he gave in to the urge to hold back just as tight. "You're serious?"

"Come sit with me," Vincent said softly.

Veld followed him, not wanting him to change his mind, and ended up joining him by the materia he'd been sitting by. There wasn't anything to see, but it wasn't the materia holding his attention.

Vincent sat gracefully, flicking his mantle out of the way and tugging Veld down beside him. "We may be in for an extensive wait."

"I know, I just…" He looked away.

"It's your daughter," Vincent said quietly. "I certainly don't _blame_ you. But you'll do yourself no good to get so wound up before the action even starts."

"I know." And he _did,_ it was a rookie mistake. He _knew better._ But apparently he'd run out of objectivity somewhere between seeing her face in Hojo's files and seeing real, concrete proof she was alive in Midgar.

"Just breathe, Veld."

"I _am._"

"It's going to be fine."

Veld gave him a sharp look. "Don't patronize me. You don't know that."

"I never said it would be _good,_" Vincent said patiently. "But whatever happens, we'll cope."

Veld rolled his eyes, but couldn't be bothered to fight back a small smile. "Oh, so you're mister positivity now?"

"I prefer _practicality,_" Vincent said. "It's overdue, isn't it?"

"It is," Veld admitted, amused. His next comment was lost as Vincent stiffened, eyes flicking towards the city entrance. "Vin?"

"They're here."


	24. A Gentle Confrontation

They made their way over to AVALANCHE's safehouse, past the guards and surveillance equipment with less trouble than Veld had honestly expected. It was sheer luck that they were closest to where Veld and Vincent had been stationed, letting them get there before any of the enhanced did.

"Their security is abysmal," Vincent murmured, helping him through a window into the second floor's storage area.

"They're scattered and shaken; from everything Rufus said, Fuhito was the mastermind behind their attacks," Veld said. "He planned the where and when and how, with Elfé as a puppet leader for inspiration."

"And Shears?" Vincent asked.

"Former leader of a lot of them, but they'd more or less pledged to Elfé at this point," Veld said. "Assuming Rufus' intel is accurate. Even if he told us exactly what Fuhito said, he's also said the man was practically delusional with his ideals."

"So they've lost their plans, but the minions have no idea that their real leader is dead," Vincent said. "That gives us an edge, if they're out of sync."

"It does, but I have no idea how long it'll last," Veld said. "All this ultimately does is make their movements unpredictable."

"Everyone loves a variable," Vincent quipped.

"Said no director _ever,_" Veld said. He paused, hearing voices ahead, and gestured for Vincent to follow him.

The second floor had a landing that stretched nearly all the way around, giving a perfect view of the majority of the first floor, where Elfé and Shears had settled. Veld's heart skipped double-time, seeing her in person. The hair and coloring was his, and the stern mantle of command she carried herself with, but her face was all Jess and _gods,_ but it hurt. He swallowed hard and tried to remember what the hell he'd planned to say to her. She was less than a thirty second walk away, after twelve years of thinking she'd _died_, and he thought he was a little justified being overwhelmed.

Then Vincent was pulling him back flush against him, a hand over his mouth to stifle any sound of surprise, just in time for him to hear movement from below.

"What is it?" Shears, not yet urgent but carrying a note of preemptive tension.

"I need a walk. Clear my head a bit," Elfé said. "Keep checking in with our team leaders."

"Alright… you do that."

"She knows we're here," Vincent whispered, voice just a breath by his ear.

Veld nodded slightly and backed up with him, silent as a pair of cats. "I take it you have a plan?"

"I don't want you getting too close to her until we find out how she's going to react to you," Vincent said. "If she could stand up to a First Class SOLDIER in close quarters, she could _maul_ you."

Some part of him was _violently_ opposed to the mere thought. This was his baby girl. Felicia would never hurt him.

But this wasn't Felicia. This was Elfé. And until he knew how Felicia had become Elfé, he had to approach this as a Turk, not her father.

Only he wasn't sure he could, and from the look Vincent was giving him, he'd clearly thought the same thing. "I'll go first."

"Vincent…" Veld hesitated, having too much to say and not sure how to say it.

"Trust me," Vincent said softly. "I've got your back."

Veld smiled crookedly. "Anytime, partner."

* * *

Elfé came up the stairs slowly, ears straining for sound. She hadn't heard anything at first, too distracted by her own thoughts, but she'd _felt_ something. Something not unlike SOLDIER, but wilder. Raw. _Untamed._

She didn't like it.

Shears knew, of course. He'd known from the moment she tensed that something was up. And he also knew that by actively doing check-ins he could call for backup, if necessary, which the better option was. Junon was still one of ShinRa's cities, but not like Midgar. It wasn't held in the same chokehold, _couldn't_ be held in the same chokehold without compromising itself as a public port. Maybe someday it would be military exclusive, but so long as they had people coming in and out on their own terms for business, education, or just passing through, there would be a status quo of a steady stream of new faces to get lost in. She fully planned to take advantage.

She did a circuit of the first floor, then keyed the headset Shears had made her wear to tell the group upstairs that she suspected they had an intruder. With Fuhito's death still fresh in their minds, they all took it more seriously this time.

They let her move first, but she could feel eyes on the hall - a sniper across from the other side of the landing.

The power was close, and breathtaking at close range - it still had the heady feeling of the enhanced, but there was so much more. Wild as a monster, powerful as a summon, she had no idea what she was dealing with, and she didn't like it. The urge to brandish her blade was strong, but she kept it merely in hand, low at her side. Ready to attack or defend, but not actively hostile. If this didn't have to come down to a fight, she'd prefer not to. She just wasn't counting on it.

"Who's there?" She said at last, voice pitched to carry.

There was a moment's silence before a man stepped into the hall, and she immediately knew he was the source of what she was feeling. Mako eyes glowed a feral red in the dim light of the hall, a crimson mantle draped around broad shoulders and hanging raggedly down his thighs. She could just make out part of a gun strapped to his thigh.

He blinked at her, tilting his head slightly. "Elfé."

She straightened her stance, looking him over, taking in the wicked gold gauntlet. "Who are you."

"A friend," he said quietly. "…Felicia."

Pain lanced through her head, and her breath caught. "…what did you say?"

"Felicia Faraman." A second voice, familiar for reasons she didn't understand. Her eyes moved to the side and she looked at him, seeing pain and something else. Something she couldn't identify, as her head was suddenly swimming. She took a half step back, swaying on her feet as another bolt of pain nearly blinded her. The name echoed in his voice, but it sounded… younger. Softer. _Warm._ Recognition flitted on the edges of her consciousness and she stared at the blurry figure as it took a step towards her, only to be restrained by the red-eyed man.

Images and sensations flashed through her mind, too quickly to fully process. A strong, broad hand mussing her hair. A low chuckle. The scent of pine and cigarettes and gunpowder. A feeling that she was impossibly safe in a warm embrace, gentle but strong and encompassing in a way she was just now remembering. She hit the ground, staring unseeingly at the floor for a long moment.

She knew this man. Somehow, against all odds, she _knew_ him. She wet her lips and tried to form words against the hot throbbing in her skull. "_Papa?"_

There was the sound of a gunshot, and everything went black.


	25. Catch Your Breath

Veld was not a man given to tantrums. Tantrums were a child's reaction, a burst of uncontrolled emotional outlashing to either bully or emotionally manipulate others, and while he'd done both it wasn't his preferred choice.

That said, if Vincent didn't put him down, he was going to pitch a grand royal _fit,_ and make him sincerely regret putting a hand on him. "So help me, Valentine -"

"I _am_ helping you," Vincent retorted. "Hold still."

"I can _walk,_" Veld hissed.

"You have been _shot._"

His tone managed to calm Veld's temper slightly, and he sighed. "Vin, it was my prosthetic. I'm fine."

"It hurt you." Vincent wasn't sure _how,_ but the moment was clear in his head.

They'd been talking to Elfé, and it was clear she was having some sort of reaction to her name, and seeing Veld. There wasn't instant recognition, which made him suspect some form of amnesia, but having him there seemed to strike a chord. And _strike_ was a good word, because the process had brought her to her knees.

Someone had objected to that, clearly, because shots had been fired. And Veld, bless the bastard, had _shielded him,_ taking a bullet to the arm. And while no, he wasn't bleeding, he'd jerked with a bitten-off sound of pain that suggested _something_ had happened.

Vincent hadn't waited to see what else they had in their arsenal. He'd scooped Veld up and fled.

They were back to the Junon base before he relented and stopped, setting Veld down. He knew better than to compromise him in front of his Turks; the man had a reputation to keep, and he would respect that.

It didn't mean he _liked it,_ but he'd do it.

Veld walked in under his own power, to all appearances fully composed despite the tiny lines of pain around his eyes and the stress in his shoulders. And of course he didn't go to medical, he went right to the Turk's base of operations to check in on the teams that were still out and about.

"The problem is you can't track all of them with the Sense," Anya said. She hadn't batted an eye at Vincent's appearance, and it had the distinct feel of a cat ignoring you after you'd been away. Which, he supposed, was not inaccurate. "Elfé is one thing, with her summon. The rest…"

"The Ravens are enhanced, aren't they?" Veld said. "Enhanced can usually sense each other if they're close enough."

"Perhaps, but that would take time to spread out and search," she said. "Time they can and will use to move in."

"I'm not sure it's necessary," Vincent said. When they both looked to him, he shrugged. "She recognized Veld, even if she seemed a bit confused. I would think she would come to _him._"

Veld hesitated, thinking about it. She _had_ recognized him, at the end before she'd collapsed. It hadn't been an immediate thing, she'd clearly struggled with it, but she'd gotten there. For a moment, Felicia had shined through. Would that be enough for Elfé to seek him out for answers? He didn't know. He liked to _think_ so, but… "I guess we'll see. Without an inside contact, though, they're going to run into more resistance trying to infiltrate than before."

"Just as well. We need time before you can confront them," Anya said. She arched a brow at his look. "Did you think I didn't notice?"

Veld rolled his eyes. "It's still functional."

"It's one wrong shift away from scorching you, and you _will_ see a technician if I have to fly Reeve in myself," Anya said shortly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"We don't have time to wait for Reeve," Veld said. "AVALANCHE will move quickly."

"Then you're dealing with David or Cassidy, take your pick," Anya said.

Veld sighed, not pleased with the outcome. But it would have to do. David was his preferred doctor of choice in Junon, and he could handle the technical aspects with Reeve's guidance. "Fine, I'll see David. Don't take Cassidy off her assignment."

Anya nodded, getting her phone out to quickly text him. "Go down to medical, then, and I'll oversee this. I'll call you if anything comes up."

Veld smiled faintly, grateful. "Thanks, Anya."

"Turks take care of their own," she said softly. "Go, get yourself ready. With any luck you'll be done before they can organize and get here."

Veld nodded, and headed back out for the elevators. Vincent followed him, and he gave him a look. "You do realize I'm heading to medical."

He couldn't see the lower half of Vincent's face, but if he had to bet he'd say his jaw was tight enough to tic. "I know."

"…I didn't expect you to come with me," Veld said softly.

"I know." Vincent took in a slow, steadying breath. "But you're hurt."

"I'm not so hurt I can't defend myself," Veld promised. He realized belatedly after a long moment of awkward silence that he'd put Vincent in the bind of either having to dispute that or disagree with his own hard decision, and shook his head. "I appreciate it, I do. But you don't have to put yourself through this."

"Yes, I'm aware," Vincent said tensely. "Let it go."

Veld nodded and dropped it. If Vincent was willing to, he'd respect the effort he was making. Even _if_ it was to fuss at him.

Dr. David Bass was not actually originally from the Science Department, as most the medical staff were; he'd come over from Junon General Hospital and viewed things primarily from a medical standpoint. Which was probably a good part of why Veld liked him. That, and he was completely unfazed by the ranks and reputations of his patients, handling Turks and SOLDIERs alike should he be asked to. Anya certainly preferred to send her forces to him, a sentiment Veld shared even if he wasn't usually in the area.

He greeted them at the entry with a small, knowing smile, once again completely unbothered by yet another enhanced that _should_ have by all rights been immediately and immensely intimidating. "So, Director. Fill me in."

"I've apparently got a bullet lodged into the prosthetic," Veld said, following him to one of the exam rooms.

"Mm. Not good. Any effects?" He asked.

"Brief shock initially before the failsafe kicked in, but nothing since," Veld said, not looking at Vincent. He had to have noticed _something,_ to be so fussy about it all.

"Mmm… well, strip down and let me have a look at it," David said. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Any upgrades?"

"Minor things. It should still be the same, functionally," Veld said. "You could contact Reeve for the blueprints if you need them."

"Let's see if they're attached to your file, first. I called in to Midgar for it," David said, reaching for a tablet to check. He read a moment, scrolling through with a thoughtful hum. "I imagine these are up to date, it looks like you had a few tweaks last year?"

"Sounds about right," Veld said, taking a moment to get himself stripped down to the waist. A task that was, admittedly, easier without the weapons to fool with. Not that he felt _dressed_ without them these days. It would _also_ have been easier without the weight of his prosthetic not wanting to cooperate, but Vincent stepped in to help get it off, taking his things and stepping back.

He had to admit, it _was _comforting having him there, even if it was obvious from his stony silence and too-perfect posture that he was deeply uncomfortable himself. Especially once David started examining the arm itself.

"Yeah, that's in deep. I can try to handle that myself, but ideally Reeve would do it," David said, sighing. "If it was in the _other_ arm, I'd be good to go, put me in scrubs and we'd extract it just fine. But you know the delicate mechanics here really aren't my thing."

Veld sighed. "I know." Damn, but he didn't have _time_ for this. Not when he was fully expecting action from AVALANCHE within the time it would take for Reeve to fly in - _assuming _they could get him away from Midgar, what with his appointment to President. And that would still shine a spotlight on his operation, one he wasn't comfortable risking.

"What about the other one Anya mentioned?" Vincent said.

"Technical possibility, but she's never gotten deep into the inner workings of it," Veld said, thinking carefully. "There may be a way… call Anya, see if she knows where Cait Sith has gotten to."

David arched a brow. "I don't know that Cait Sith has that kind of fine motor control…"

"You'd be surprised," Veld said, dry tone promising a _story._ "And he's got a direct line to Reeve. Might be our best bet. I can't wait for Reeve to get here, even if he could."

"I mean, if you're comfortable with that, I'm not going to argue it," David said. "I'd just advise -"

A sudden low beeping distracted Veld and he turned. "Give me my jacket, Vincent. That's my phone."

Vincent located the device quickly, handing it over at once.

Veld flipped it open to check the messages. "Speak of the devil. Cait says AVALANCHE is regrouping and he thinks some of them might be here -"

The second distraction was far more dramatic as alarms sounded in the hallway. Distantly, he could hear doors go on lockdown.

"You don't say," Vincent drawled. "I'll go meet them. Stay here."

"Like _hell_ I'm staying here," Veld snapped.

"You're all but literally disarmed," Vincent said. "Coordinate with Anya, but you shouldn't be on the front lines and you know it."

Veld snarled, furious - and all the more so because he was _right._ "But -"

Vincent rested a hand on his shoulder. "If I can safely retrieve her, I will. If nothing else, I'll make sure nothing happens to her. But you have to make sure nothing happens to _you_, or I can't promise anyone else's safety."

For a moment, Veld wondered if that was a threat. But there was something very somber in those bright red eyes. A _warning._ He wasn't sure he wanted to test that, even as much as it grated on him to stay behind, so he nodded tightly. "Go, and take my phone. I'll head for the monitors and keep an eye on things."

Vincent pocketed the device, and was gone.

Veld prayed he'd made the right decision.


	26. Risk Takers

Veld rushed to the monitors the moment he'd gotten dressed, 'injury' forgotten - well, pushed aside - in his urgency to see what was going on. He wished badly they'd had a headset or earpiece for Vincent instead of relying on a phone, which would take time to answer - time he might not have, in a tight situation.

They'd sent _Ravens,_ which wasn't really a surprise if they considered them a threat. Of course, one would think without Fuhito there wouldn't be _more_ Ravens, which made them less expendable than AVALANCHE had been treating them. But they had to know it would take _force _to get into the Junon Military Base.

One had to ask what even possessed them to try. Was it a father's twisted hope that she was coming after him, or a Turks' paranoia that said the rest of AVALANCHE had singled him out as a threat? Did it matter, if the end result was the same?

He found he really didn't care why they were there. He could analyze it to death and never get anywhere. What he needed now was to see her again. To have Vincent _find her,_ and bring her home, where she belonged. Where he could drag her in to Rayleigh's team of mako and materia experts and have them _help her,_ because there was always a price for that kind of strength. He didn't trust it. He'd _seen_ what happened to SOLDIERs who pulled too hard on their magic reserves, it wasn't pretty.

It occurred to him that they would have two guesses for where he'd gone - medical, if they'd realized they'd successfully shot him, and the Turk's headquarters. The Turks could handle themselves, of course, but he immediately sent a note down to medical to put themselves on security lockdown for their own safety. It just wasn't worth the risk.

Then his cameras caught a flare of red as Vincent arrived where the SOLDIERs and Ravens were fighting, and his attention was entirely taken up by the scene. He gripped the console so tight it creaked under the powerful grip of his prosthetic, Anya's light touch on his arm bringing him the presence of mind to let it go before he broke something.

God, standing on the sidelines was _killing him._

And the one thing that made it so much worse, even with the painful surge of hope, was when he saw his daughter again - facing off with his best friend. With that glow and how fast he healed, Veld would have put him up on par with the Firsts, up on par with _her, _but he was going in compromised. He was fighting to subdue, to either talk her down or bring her in by whatever means necessary. She looked like she wouldn't mind having to kill him to get him out of her way.

He had to trust Vincent's skill would be enough.

* * *

"Where is my father?" Elfé demanded. She had her sword drawn, a tangible threat though it wasn't yet aimed at him, the tip of the katana pointed towards the floor. But Vincent had used katanas, when he was younger. Even without fully knowing what her materia-enhanced skills had done to her speed and strength, he knew it was a fast, graceful weapon in the hands of _any _skilled warrior. He would have to be careful. "What have you done with him?"

"Given one of your people shot him, I brought him to be taken care of," Vincent said mildly. He had to give her credit, she didn't wince at his point, merely narrowed her eyes. "I'm afraid he's going to need care before he can speak with you."

"Take me to him," she said.

"Call off your operatives," he retorted evenly. "There are innocent people in danger."

"There are no innocents in ShinRa," she said.

"A narrow, self-righteous view," Vincent said darkly. "But I suppose we all have to tell ourselves these things as we go through life destroying families, orphaning children, and killing innocents in the name of our cause, don't we?"

"Don't tell me we're the same," she hissed, showing the first spark of concrete emotion in their encounter.

Even if it was in anger, he latched on to it. "Are we not? We both serve the greater goals of an organization that sits on a throne of blood and broken bodies. Forget the ShinRa employees in the reactors, do you know how much _civilian damages_ are done by the destruction of a reactor? How many died? How many were left with broken families and nothing but the singed clothes on their backs? You, of all people, I would expect to understand the true devastation of a bomb, _Felicia._"

She winced, tiny but there, her hand tightening around her hilt. "You keep calling me that."

"It's your name," Vincent said. "…but you don't remember that, do you?"

She was tellingly silent, lips pursed.

Vincent prowled towards her, red eyes never leaving her - he knew better, she was tense without a sign of the weakness that had brought her to her knees before, still and silent but a predator in her own right. And he knew better than to take his eyes off a predator. Even one he hoped to tame.

"I could tell," Vincent said, quiet, conversational. As if she wasn't wound so tight she could burst into violence at any moment, if she didn't like what she heard. Instinct said he could take her, but he didn't want it to come to that. He stayed calm. "He thought you were dead, you know. The second he realized who you were, he's been trying to track you down."

"To what ends?" She asked. "He's a Turk, isn't he? They've been trying to dismantle AVALANCHE. The President wants us dead."

Vincent hummed quietly, weighing his words. "You can't tell me realizing he's your father hasn't changed anything."

"I won't abandon my cause," she said firmly.

"But you want to see him," he said. "To convert him?"

"I…" She hesitated, uncertain.

It was entirely possible, he mused, that she hadn't gotten that far. Or in the least, no one had made her articulate it. She was running on instinct and emotion. Not unlike her father, though he'd credit Veld with more strategy.

"He wants to see you," he said, instead of forcing her to work through it aloud. "But not like this. Not with your Ravens bursting down the door and AVALANCHE at our throats. He has people he's responsible for, even if certain loyalties are… questionable."

"Questionable?" She pounced on it, watching him closely.

"He believed you were dead. ShinRa's people told him so." Vincent arched a brow. "That was a lie. Veld has never taken being lied to well."

She swallowed, tightening her grip on her sword. "I see."

"He wants his daughter back," Vincent said quietly.

She frowned faintly. "I don't remember being his daughter."

"And yet you came for him," Vincent pointed out.

Elfé smiled thinly. "So I did."

"I can take you to him," Vincent said. "But only you."

It was clear she was torn. She wanted to see him, but… "He's not the only one with a responsibility for people."

"You could meet on neutral ground," Vincent offered.

She nodded slowly. "I could do that."

"Then perhaps -"

There was an explosion, and he turned, looking back, mind racing over the blueprints of the base to place where the smoke was coming from.

Somehow, they'd made it inwards to Turk territory. _Veld…_

"I'll find you," he said shortly.

"_Wait -_"

"Your little friends have put him in danger," Vincent said, giving her a sharp look as she sucked in a breath. "Apparently you didn't think to tell them to be careful with him."

"They were just supposed to retrieve him," she said.

"Excuse my skepticism," he said. "You may be his priority, but he's mine. And I only promised him your safety."

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"His partner," he said, leaving her behind to make of that what she would. Veld and Anya were good, but that was a risk he wouldn't take.

It felt like entirely too long to rush back to where he knew Veld would have settled, following a path of smoking ruin and the bodies of those who hadn't gotten out of their way in time - less than he'd expected, at least. They were focused on Veld this time, not on wrecking as much havoc as possible. Little blessings.

But they'd made it nearly to him when he arrived, breaking down the reinforced door. Anya and Veld had opened fire - _literal_ fire in one case, he watched a Fira take one of them down in a blazing streak. But he'd feel infinitely better when he was between them and these_ creatures._ They may have looked like people, but looking in their eyes… something was missing. They were people once. Not anymore.

The thought to call out of them was fleeting. Instead, he pulled his gun and opened fire himself. Cerberus packed far more of a punch than either of their firearms, three massive rounds loosed at a time, enough to stagger even these creatures. There was no missing the sound, proof enough for Veld that he'd returned.

Perhaps the Ravens were able to sense him as clearly as he'd sensed them, undeniably as much of a predator, if not more. Regardless, they turned as one to face him, snarling, and lunged.

Cerberus was not made for close combat, but a little mess had never stopped him from firing before and he wasn't afraid to use it as a blunt weapon, either. It was the speed of it that was hard, and how _many_ of them there were. He lashed out with his gauntleted hand, claws slashing like knives, driving them back. There was more gunfire from the others, pulling at least one off of him, and he cursed softly. This was not a fight he wanted them in. But when had Veld ever sat something out when he thought he could help?

The unfortunate thing, was they were both distracted. They weren't used to each other anymore, weren't familiar with the new skills and finesse they'd picked up.

And it nearly cost them more than Vincent was willing to pay.

He saw the flash of a blade out of the corner of his eye and knew, instinctively, there was no way Veld could block at that angle. Even if he did, the force they were capable of would be too much. In the breath between panic and resolve, he was gone, flying through the air in crimson mist in time to get in the way.

He'd meant to grab him and keep moving. He'd never intended it to be a sacrifice.

In the split second between mist and 'solid enough to touch' pain exploded across his back and everything went black.


	27. Limits

**A/N:** I'm having a bit of trouble wrangling the rest of the fic, so in interest of keeping regular posting I'm going to go to posting once a week (on Saturdays) until I get enough buffer up to maintain posting twice a week again. Thanks for your understanding.

* * *

Anyone who said Turks didn't have limit breaks had never seen a Turk pushed to the limit. _Everyone _had the potential for limit breaks; most people just weren't trained to access them like SOLDIERs were. Usually, all it showed up as was things like sudden bursts of strength, or inhuman reflexes - someone lifting a car off a loved one, or darting out in traffic to save a child, not a _full_ limit, just a boost.

Veld, who had been running on adrenaline for days and was wound tighter than a ten day clock, hit his limit like a freight train. Magic flowed through him like a burst dam and everything sharpened and slowed, like time itself was grinding to a halt for everyone but him. The air felt thick and staticky, the moment before a lightning strike.

And then lightning _struck, _with a deafening crash and blinding light and a wave of heat that took his breath away.

His sight cleared before the ringing in his ears stopped, taking in the blown out wall, Ravens tossed like ragdolls out into the hallway, unmoving. Stunned and shaky, he stared a moment until he heard a low groan.

_Vincent._

Immediately dismissing them from his mind, he hit his knees, staring in horror at the rapidly darkening gash across the back of Vincent's mantle. "Oh god… _Vincent__…_"

"I called medical," Anya said quietly, coming over.

Veld nodded numbly, hurrying to get his jacket off. "Help me with this damn thing, we need compression. Even enhanced can bleed out."

"Here," Anya said. "Don't, it's not as absorbent as what he's wearing. Just bunch it up."

Veld nodded again, at a loss for words as he applied pressure, watching the crimson fabric darkening under his hands and wishing he could _do_ _something._ "ETA?"

"Any minute, they were waiting," she said.

"Nnh?" Vincent stirred under him. "Wha?"

Veld took a deep, shuddery breath. "You absolute _idiot._"

"You're welcome," he muttered muzzily, attempting to push himself upright.

"_No,_ you stay down until medical gets here," Veld insisted.

Vincent went tense. "…you're not taking me to medical."

"Like fuck am I not taking you to medical, your _back_ _is split open,_" Veld snapped.

"It'll heal," Vincent insisted, managing to get himself upright despite the pressure Veld had been putting on his back.

"Yes, it will. With medical attention," Veld said.

"I _am not_ going to sit through 'medical attention'," Vincent said flatly. "I will heal on my own. One more scar hardly matters at this point."

"You do not get to get grievously wounded _defending me_ and then _further_ risk your life because you don't like the idea of going to medical," Veld said, narrowing his eyes. "You think I don't get it? I didn't have _half_ the time you did and I have to have someone sit with me when I'm in the hospital for myself. _I get it._ But -"

"I will walk out right now, Faraman," Vincent said flatly. "Don't _push._"

Veld's mouth snapped shut. If Vincent left and didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. And Veld was too shaky to even try to follow. He swallowed hard. "Vincent, please."

"Have someone use a Restore," Vincent said. "But don't ask me to do that, Veld."

Before he could say anything, the medical team burst in. Veld barely had time to lunge forward and grab Vincent's wrist, waving them back. "Okay. _Okay._ We'll find another way, don't go." _Don__'t leave me Vincent, please._

"Director?" David had treated more than enough combatants to read a room, and clearly recognized someone on the knife's edge of losing a _fight or flight_ battle.

"See to Anya. I'll see if I can't raise Richards," Veld said. He'd seen him work offensive magic like a charm; surely he could do curative. You didn't make it to First Class without having to patch yourself up on the go.

"The SOLDIER?" Vincent gave him a curious look, clearly trying to ignore the medical personnel and just as clearly hyper aware.

"Yeah, the one who was out here." He snapped his fingers, making Vincent look at him. "Eyes on me. You're okay. They're not coming here."

"…you should be checked over, after that limit," Vincent said.

"I just need a pint of juice and a good meal, I'll be fine," Veld said. "Just an energy low, I wasn't injured."

Vincent nodded slightly, clearly relieved. "Okay… that's good."

"If you _ever_ do that again, we are having _words,_" Veld informed him.

"That wasn't my intention," Vincent said. "But I have no regrets."

"I will _give you_ regrets," Veld said.

"You could never make me regret saving you," Vincent said.

Veld made a small, frustrated sound, hand slipping down to grip Vincent's tightly. "I just got you _back._"

Vincent sighed, squeezing his hand back. "I'm not going anywhere, Veld. Look at me. I'm sitting up talking to you after a wound that had you panicking."

"Still is," Veld informed him; he was a _master_ at suppressed panic, at this point. "You're letting Richards look at it."

"I will let him look," Vincent said.

Veld nodded, patting himself down for his phone. It was one thing to say it, but it did no good without calling the man in the first place.

Fortunately, whatever had gone down on his end, he was in a position to answer the call, and did, and was even on his way back to base. Veld saved the updating for when he'd arrive, still too rattled to properly focus. Had to be the limit break making him bleary; he'd heard of people knocking out cold their first few times.

Once Anya had been looked over, she dismissed the small medical team and came to stand by the other two. "You're a mess."

"Thank you for that astute observation, Shiv, I hadn't noticed," Vincent drawled.

She snorted softly, amused. "Both of you, but you _did_ take it more literally."

"Yes, well, I have a reputation to keep, don't I?" Vincent said.

"Resident drama queen?" Veld arched a brow, smirking when he was given a rather flat look. It was good to see him animated. Helped him pretend that he hadn't just been seriously wounded and was just… casually bleeding all over the place because he couldn't stand the thought of medical attention.

"The calvary has arrived!" Richards came jogging to a halt, nose wrinkling at the potent mix of ozone and blood that was doubtlessly all the worse to enhanced senses. "Looks like you fellas had some fun without me."

"You're welcome to take the next round," Veld said.

"Might just," he said. "So, just Valentine?"

"He's the only injured," Veld said.

"He'll need some juice or something, he hit a fairly significant limit," Vincent said, eyeing the SOLDIER as he came over.

"That's _your_ work?" The First did a double take to the sizable hole in the wall and the dead Ravens, looking back with more than a little surprise and respect. "Well damn, Director. Didn't know you had it in you."

"I'm full of surprises," Veld said dryly. "The healing?"

"Right, on it." He nodded, coming over and pausing a little ways from Vincent with a frown. "…ideally I could see what I was doing."

"I'm not stripping," Vincent informed him.

"Yeah, didn't think so. But it was worth a shot." He sighed, shaking his arms out. "Well, I learned from the best. If I couldn't do this through clothes, Rhapsodos would rise from the grave just to give me a piece of his mind. Just have someone give it a good look when you clean it, alright?"

Vincent nodded, and Veld made a mental note to hold him to it. Then the healing started, green light gleaming from the materia embedded in Richard's mythril bangle, and a faint glow peeking through the slash in Vincent's mantle.

Vincent shifted uncomfortably, wrinkling his nose at the pins-and-needles sensation of rapidly knitting flesh.

"That's not as bad as I expected," Richards murmured. "Given all that blood. You heal fast."

Vincent hummed in agreement, stretching and twisting a little, trying to alleviate the discomfort. It was better than the pain, at least, and the maddening itch from it happening naturally. Well, as 'natural' as one could call enhanced healing. "Thank you."

"Sure thing." He nodded. "You should be good to go. But I'd advise a pretty iron-heavy meal. And carbs. _Lots_ of carbs. You need calories. Wilt some spinach in a big thing of pasta, maybe have a steak on the side. Or liver, if you can stomach it. Liver's better than steak, but it's not for everyone… clams would be great, too, and you can get them easy around here."

"We'll arrange for something," Veld said. "How did it go with AVALANCHE?"

"We took out quite a few of their operatives before they broke ranks and ran," he said. "We didn't pursue. No sign of their leaders."

"That's fine. I'll update you on our next move once I've heard from all the teams," Veld said.

"No offense, Director, but tank up first," Richards said. "You're looking pretty pale, and a limit like that would take it out of anyone."

"We'll see that he's taken care of," Anya said.

"Alright. Then I'll gather the SOLDIER reports and turn in what I've got as soon as I'm done." Richards looked between them. "Anything else?"

"No, we can take it from here," Veld said. "Thanks."

"Anytime." He gave a casual salute and headed back out, stopping to nudge each of the Raven's with his boot, likely to appease his own instincts to make sure the enemy was truly down before leaving the battlefield.

Veld couldn't blame him, but he had bigger concerns for the moment.

"Why don't you two head to the executive suite, and I'll see about having some replacement clothes sent your way?" Anya said, eyeing Vincent.

Vincent snorted, but inclined his head slightly; he had to admit, his outfit was trashed. "Very well."

"And I'll bring food," she added. "Do you need assistance?"

"I've got it," Vincent said. He got up slowly, testing, but was steady on his feet. He offered Veld a hand with a small smile.

There were precious few people Veld's pride would have allowed him to lean on, even as badly as he needed the help. With Vincent, he didn't hesitate.

Vincent got him on his feet, slipping an arm around him when he wavered. "Easy. Do you need a minute?"

"No, I've got this," Veld insisted. "Just take it slow."

Vincent nodded. "I assume the suite was moved during the renovations?"

"Yeah, but it's not far." Veld gestured ahead. "Come on. I'll show you."


	28. Regroup

Vincent allowed Veld to strip him down to the waist once they were tucked away in the bathroom of the executive suite, expression guarded as scars were bared. Scars that never should have been on a living being.

Veld's fingertips brushed what he recognized immediately as an autopsy scar, feeling emotion well up and threaten to choke him. "_Vincent__…_"

The grief in his voice was too much. Vincent swallowed against his own welling of emotion, covering Veld's hand with his own. "I'm still here."

"I know, I just…" Veld closed his eyes, shaking his head. What if's wouldn't do them any good now, decades later. It just hurt. All of it hurt.

"Don't," Vincent said softly. "We both made mistakes, but I'm here _now._ That's what matters."

Veld nodded, making a little sound of surprise when he was pulled into a hug. He returned it carefully, remembering the injury he'd suffered all too clearly, and startled when Vincent tightened his grip in response. But he took the hint, hugging him back just as tight and taking comfort in the embrace.

"I'm _here,_" Vincent repeated. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll hold you to that," Veld warned.

"I fully expect you'd hunt me down if I tried," Vincent said, only half teasing.

"Probably," Veld admitted. He shifted his hold and abruptly registered the tacky feel of blood under his arms. "…you need a shower."

Vincent laughed softly, pulling back. "I do, yes. I'll get that. Do you have anything to snack on, or do you have to wait for Anya?"

"I'm sure there's something kicking around," he said. "Get your shower, I'll take care of me."

"Alright." Vincent nodded, and resumed stripping down as Veld slipped out to go check for food.

He found some rather stale granola, but it would do in a pinch. It was a _start_ at least; he was feeling shakier than he'd readily admit, with that heady sort of feeling that threatened passing out if he wasn't careful.

It was a relief to see Anya, carrying two garment bags, two very full grocery bags, and a box of what absolutely smelled like donuts. "You are an angel."

"I have never been an angel in my life," she said, amused. "Go sit, you're weaving."

Veld huffed at her, but obediently made his way back to the table. She wasn't wrong.

She set the box in front of him on her way to the kitchenette, setting down the bags and going to the bathroom briefly to slip Vincent clothes. "I imagine neither of you is in any condition to cook. Do you have any updates?"

"They're coming in, I'm just… not processing real fast," Veld admitted.

"Expected, given your condition. I'll review them once we have food on," she said.

"Please tell me you're not going to make my apartment smell like liver," Veld said.

"I know better. I'll be keeping his steak on the rare side," she said. "With potatoes, for carbohydrates."

"And something you knew I'd eat." Veld chuckled, opening the box. Normally he wouldn't have had dessert before dinner, but he desperately needed the boost. Besides, they looked fantastic and they were still hot.

He didn't look up right away when he heard the bathroom door open, more occupied with making sure he didn't get any of the raspberry jam on his shirt.

"…is this a hint, Anya?"

Veld looked up and promptly forgot about the donuts.

Somehow - likely sheer necessity - Anya had gotten Vincent into a suit. It was midnight black, a touch darker than Veld's own, with a stormy gray shirt. She'd foregone the tie and admittedly the thigh holster for Cerberus didn't work as well with the thinner material, compared to the skintight leather he'd been in, but… _damn._ He looked…

"One does not _retire_ from the Turks," Anya informed him.

Vincent snorted softly, crossing his arms, but his expression softened when his eyes landed on Veld. "Well?"

"It's hardly standard issue, but considering I can't get Reno to tuck in his shirt and wear a tie, and I'm doing well to even get Ruluf to _button_ his shirt, I'll take it," Veld said.

"Mm_hm._" Vincent came over to sit at the table, idly glancing at the donuts before looking back to Veld. "You've got motion back?"

Veld blinked, then flexed his prosthetic hand. "Some. It's glitchy, but it'll do."

"You need to see Reeve," Anya said. "That's not safe."

"He can repair it?" Vincent said, humming at her nod. "Back to Midgar, then."

"I'd rather figure out what AVALANCHE is up to first," Veld said.

Vincent shook his head. "It doesn't matter what they're up to now. She'll come for you, eventually. Even if she tries to convince herself she won't, she will."

Veld glanced at him. "You talked a while."

"Some," he agreed. "She appears to have amnesia."

Veld nodded slowly, going back to his donut, though he barely tasted it. "That explains why she didn't come back."

"And the new identity," Vincent said. "But she recognized you. And she's going to come for you, until she's at least confronted you in person once."

"You can't be sure of that," Veld said.

"Even if she didn't, AVALANCHE _by nature_ is going against ShinRa," Anya said. "They're not going to go into hiding because Fuhito's dead."

"They'll resurface," Vincent agreed. "You've got time to recover."

"_I__'ve_ got time to recover?" Veld arched a brow.

"We." From Vincent's indulgent smile, he clearly thought the inclusion of himself was completely unnecessary. Gods save him, as if he hadn't been bad enough _before_ he'd had enhancements to excuse his recklessness. "Regardless, there's time."

"I guess." He sighed. "Hard to be patient, for this."

"I can only imagine." Vincent had kept his gloves and gauntlet, and rested his good hand over Veld's a moment, gentle pressure and silent reassurance.

Veld sighed, shifting to lace their fingers together and briefly resenting two layers of leather for preventing skin contact. There would be time for that, eventually. "Back to Midgar, then. See if I can't squeeze any more information out of Rufus, and make sure I'm there to keep an eye on the board while things settle."

"And SOLDIER?"

"And SOLDIER," he agreed. They'd been… surprisingly agreeable. He wanted to trust that. "What's your take on them, Anya?"

She hummed, leaning against the counter and turning to face them. "They're creatures of habit. They'd rather not up and change their whole world, if they can help it."

"You think they're bluffing about defecting?" Veld asked.

"Not in the slightest," she disagreed. "They would in a heartbeat, if that's what it took to guarantee their survival. They would simply prefer it not come to that."

Veld nodded. He could appreciate that - he felt much the same. "How are they taking to working with you?"

"They're wary, but I think that's understandable," she said. "They're willing to try in good faith. I don't know that they're looking for fault so much as being ready to call it without much leeway."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't be surprised if they were out of patience, too," Veld said. The mess with Zack was just the icing on the cake; this had been a long time coming.

"They are. And some of them didn't have much of it to start with," she said. "However, they do seem inclined to take Zack's lead. And _he_ is exceptionally patient."

"In some things," Veld said. "Kid can't sit still to save his life."

"No," Anya said. "But he'd hold still for eternity for those he cares for."

Veld smiled faintly. "Touché. I can't say I'm comfortable resting everything on the good will of one man, but we do what we have to."

"Don't we always?" Anya said. She did not, perhaps kindly, point out that the _Turks_ were in much the same position. She didn't have to.

Veld sighed, shaking his head. "So, SOLDIER's not an immediate worry, at least."

"I don't think so, no. But I'd keep in touch, just to make sure nothing slips by," Anya said.

"That's what I have you in there for, _Director,_" Veld retorted.

She wrinkled her nose, turning back to the food. "Temporarily."

"Probably. But an important role, for now," Veld said.

"I suppose. You know I'll do my duty," she said.

"Why do you think I put you there?" Veld said. He wouldn't have trusted just anyone in that position.

Anya smiled faintly, inclining her head. For a moment there was silence, but for the sizzling of cooking steak. "They're making him a general."

Veld arched a brow. "Zack?"

"Mmm." She nodded, flipping the steak with a satisfied sound at the fragrant burst of steam. "I find it fitting."

Veld considered it a moment. The other three had more experience by far, not just in combat but as First Classes. Nikolas Gregor had been in an administrative position for _years._ He would be a better choice from that standpoint. But then, they weren't at war. An administrator would be good for Director, certainly. But a general… "To rally them?"

"They'd all fall into step under his command," Anya said. "He's their best bet at unifying SOLDIER and convincing them that staying is their best option."

"Which is what we need right now," Veld said. "Fair enough."

"Literally," Vincent added, smirking at his groan. He reached over to grab a fritter with a hum. "One less concern is always appreciated."

"Yeah." Veld sighed. "Yeah, especially right now. I'd rather focus on AVALANCHE."

"At least they're inclined to help?" Vincent said.

Veld nodded, going back to finishing the donut he'd nearly forgotten. The sugar was helping get some of his energy back, at least. "There's that, yes. Ultimately, I'm going to have to talk to her myself."

"But not alone," Anya said.

"No, not alone," Vincent agreed immediately. "But it's a necessary conversation. Fortunately, also one she's seeking out."

Veld nodded. That would make it easier. Tracking AVALANCHE down had proven… difficult. "I don't know that she'll come alone twice."

"Just as well. You won't either." Vincent considered it. "I didn't feel that level of power from anyone else. Even their enhanced."

"The Ravens aren't all that bright anyway," Veld said. "And historically, she's never chosen them as backup. Then again, she might change her mind with you around, we'll see."

"We didn't battle," Vincent said. "She has no idea what I'm capable of."

"All the more reason to be cautious," Anya said. "Your eyes alone say you're enhanced. That puts you on a different tier. And I imagine there's a certain level of extra sensing going on. That seems to be common."

Vincent nodded thoughtfully. There was certainly awareness of her energy on his side; it would make sense that it was mutual. Now, whether or not she could interpret it any better than he could… that remained to be seen. "We'll see. I intend to go with Veld, and having a sniper with sedative darts on hand wouldn't be a bad idea."

Veld arched a brow, but didn't dispute it. He didn't want to take his daughter by force… but that might be the safest way, even if he felt horrible for so much as entertaining the idea. "We'll see."

Vincent smiled, not without sympathy. "I suppose we will."


	29. Recovery

Vincent found Veld's neat evasion of going to medical for his arm rather hypocritical, but given the stress he was under didn't press so much as file the moment away for later reference.

Veld was perfectly aware of that the moment he'd gotten a single raised brow from his partner, but knew better than to address it and leave an opening for commentary. Instead, he found himself stripped to the waist in Reeve's workshop while their newly minted president worked on fixing his arm. It was, Veld reflected, probably a much more comfortable task for him.

"This isn't a shield, you know," Reeve said mildly, carefully undoing the outer casings to get in where the bullet had pierced half way through. "You could have gotten a hot shock before the failsafe kicked in."

"Still better than it going somewhere more vulnerable," Veld said. "What were the odds they'd have rounds that could pierce it?"

"Even mythril-based alloy can be pierced with some armor-piercing rounds when it's beat this thin," Reeve said. "As evidence shows, clearly. Something heavier duty would also be _heavier,_ too heavy for your shoulder to take long term, and thus pointless as a prosthetic."

"It kept it from going somewhere that bleeds, I count that a win," Veld said. "You can't say it's not easier to repair than flesh."

Reeve grumbled at him, but admittedly didn't have a ready protest for that. And sure enough, he made quick work of it. "There."

"Temporary fix, or are we good?" Veld asked, watching him carefully put the casing back on.

"No, you're good. I'd still like to upgrade this eventually, but I know you'll want things to settle first," Reeve said.

"I can't afford to be adjusting to a new _arm_ in the middle of all this," Veld said. "This one does me fine."

"You've been saying that for years," Reeve said. "There have been _advancements._"

"Maybe after the dust settles on all this," Veld said.

Reeve sighed, but let it go. "And how is 'all this'?"

Veld considered that, absently redressing now that Reeve was done. "SOLDIER's settling. Things with AVALANCHE are… slow."

"Any contact with the parties you were concerned with?" he asked delicately.

Veld smiled faintly at the care. "I saw her, but we didn't really talk. She wants to, at least there's that."

Reeve nodded. "Should we be expecting another invasion here, then?"

"I have no idea," Veld said. "Maybe. A crude but effective way of drawing me out."

"I suppose we'll see, then," Reeve said. "You might talk to SOLDIER about it. Last I heard, Zack was getting discharged today."

"Already?" Veld arched a brow. That would be good to check on on principle. A lot was riding on how Zack was doing. "We'll see where he is, then."

"Oh I doubt he'll go far for long, his friend's still there," Reeve said. "But he'll be out and about a little now."

Veld nodded thoughtfully. It fit what he knew of him, that he'd stick around no matter how much he had to want out of there. "I'll see him, then. Have you been by?"

"Briefly, earlier. He seemed surprisingly happy to see me," Reeve said.

"He was in favor of your appointment," Veld said. "He seemed to remember working with you in the past."

"We did, a little," Reeve said. "He was an extraordinarily busy young man. As far as I can tell, he's assisted throughout quite a few branches of the company."

"Which means he could conceivably have quite a few people who remember him fondly," Vincent mused. "Perhaps a more strategic choice for general than expected."

"The board likes to brush SOLDIER off as a lot of brainless muscle, or at least people with no interests or intelligence outside fighting," Veld said. "_That _is a mistake. Especially with the Firsts."

"So I'm learning," Vincent said. "Are we going to talk to them next?"

"Might as well. I need time to think on the reports before making another move," Veld said. And it wouldn't be a bad idea to get Zack and Kunsel's take on it all.

"Well, then I leave you to it," Reeve said. "And I'll catch you later when Cait gets back to me."

Veld nodded. "You do that."

* * *

"Freedom!" Zack crowed, plastering himself to the outside wall of the elevator and staring out at Midgar with a longing he hadn't felt for the city in a long time. "I want the most ridiculous junk food we can possibly get. Like those burgers with the special sauce that you have to practically unhinge your jaw to eat from down on Main, with a side order of mozzarella sticks. And onion rings. And one of those fancy coffees!"

"Whatever you want, babe, there's nothing wrong with your stomach." Kunsel chuckled.

"Can we get Cloud something?" He asked. "What about pizza? He likes pizza. And breadsticks!"

"Yeah, he's fine," Benji said, grinning. "We can see what the doc'll let us do. I am not above bribery."

"Neither am I." Zack grinned back, bouncing on his heels. He probably wouldn't have been quite so lighthearted about it all if Cloud had been alone, but Aerith was with him, and Drew, and _Balto_ and he really couldn't ask for better.

Besides, if he didn't get out of there, he was going to _lose his mind. _The pale blue walls were okay, but with his eyes closed the beeps of monitors and scent of antiseptic harkened back to things he couldn't let himself think about.

Phantom bonds encircled his wrists and he shuddered, shaking his arms out. _Not thinking about it._

The ringing of Kunsel's phone was a welcome distraction, and he glanced over as he answered it. Enhanced hearing - even sharper than before, Rayleigh had been right about the jump in his ability - picked up Cissnei's voice clearly.

"_Hey, heard he got out,"_ she said. "_That__'s great!"_

"Yeah, we're thrilled," Kunsel said. "It's a real relief. But I doubt this is a courtesy call… what's up?"

"_It could have been!" _Cissnei sighed. _"But no, not this time. Chief and Valentine are back from Junon and would like to catch up with you. Figured I'd give you a heads up."_

Kunsel arched a brow. "Yeah, thanks. We'll keep an ear out for them."

"_Sounds good, I__'ll let you go,"_ she said. "_Have a good time. Tell Zack I said hi!__"_

"I'll do that," Kunsel said. "See ya."

"Your little Turk friend?" Benji said when he'd hung up.

"Yeah, we always got on well," Zack said. "She didn't know. Sounds like most of them weren't in on it."

"But Faraman was," Benji said.

"Yeah." Zack sighed. "I mean, I'm not cool with that, but… it wasn't _personal_ either, if that makes sense? Like, dude, we've _done things,_ you know? It's not like my hands are clean."

"So you're letting it go," he said.

Zack ran a hand back through his hair, frowning. "Look, I just think it's better to sit on that and keep them as allies, _whatever_ caused the change of heart. I know enough about strategy, and about the Turks, to know I don't want that fight. Not if we can help it."

"Yeah, alright," Benji said. "That's… er."

"Fair?" He grinned as they groaned. "Sure is!"

"So, we'll go with that, for now," Kunsel said. "So long as they stay in line, we'll let it go. If there's going to be a fight between departments, it won't be because we started it."

"Alright." Benji saluted casually. "Whatever the general wants."

"Oh don't even." Zack huffed, shoving his shoulder.

"Alright don't you start, we're still going out to get food. They can just come find us," Kunsel said. "They're Turks, and we're not hiding. Should be a piece of cake."

It took _far_ less time than Kunsel was expecting - they were met in the lobby by the two men in question, though if Valentine hadn't had a _very_ distinct energy the drastically different attire might have been a cause of confusion. Mako red eyes aside, he very much looked the part of a Turk, even with the darker colors. He suspected it was a deliberate reference.

"We're going to get food," Zack informed them. "You're welcome to join us, but I need fed."

"Never get between a SOLDIER and their dinner, y'know?" Benji said.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Veld said. "Lead on."

Zack was, admittedly, a little surprised, but not really put out; if they were going to let him eat, he'd be fine with talking over it.

The place he'd been eyeing on Main _did _have a seating area, but he suspected the Turks would rather not have even a borderline-confidential discussion in the middle of the local greasy spoon.

Tough luck, that. He was getting that burger.

But no, Veld was perfectly patient with it all. In fact, he ordered a strawberry shake and pushed it at his partner before getting himself some fries, seemingly content to settle into the booth. "Glad to see your appetite's still in order."

"Yeah, seriously. That'd be a problem with this metabolism," Zack agreed. He'd been rather fixated on his first burger, but had slowed down enough for conversation on the second one. He glanced at Vincent thoughtfully, arching a brow. "So, uh, not to be rude or anything -"

"- that's never a promising start," Kunsel muttered.

"No, seriously, but uhm. Has anyone talked to you?" Zack asked. At Vincent's blank look, he waved a finger by his eyes, mako blues deliberately widened for emphasis. "You're sporting one hell of a glow. I don't know what does _red,_ but you've got some serious enhancements. Those take adjustment. Did… I mean… look, the Professor wasn't exactly nurturing even to people he _liked_ and… are you _laughing_ at me?"

"I appreciate the concern," Vincent said, and was indeed quite clearly amused. "I seem to be adjusting."

"Good. That's great. 'cause I mean, I'm sure what went down was probably different and I'm not asking for you to spill your story or anything but I've _lived with_ enhancements since I was fifteen. I had training and everything for how to deal with it. And this new set is still a bit of a curve ball," Zack said. "I'm adjusting because I was taught _how_ to adjust and, well…"

"A set of tools he does not have," Veld observed, arching a brow. "You offering?"

Zack mirrored the gesture. "I mean, sure, but _I__'m_ still adjusting. I was thinking more like, Benji. But we could fumble through it together. Odds are good I'm not going to be too long figuring it out. And I can walk him through it for sure."

"That may have benefits," Veld said, glancing at Vincent. "So you know what you're capable of."

Vincent stared at him a moment before sighing quietly. "What did you have in mind?"


	30. What You Can Do

"Really?" Kunsel gave Zack a _look._ "Not like, the weight room or the track, we're starting _here?_"

"Look, the VR room is _all those things _and more," Zack pointed out. "It's perfect."

"Do you know _why_ we don't start rookies in the VR room, Zack?" Kunsel asked patiently.

"Uhm." Zack rocked on his heels, humming. "I'm going to go out there and say because there's way too many of them and too few of these?"

"Because they don't have the control to keep from _breaking things,_" Kunsel said.

"Also that," Benji admitted. "But our Turk friend seems remarkably coordinated."

"I just don't know that this is the best place to _start him,_" Kunsel said. "Or have _you._"

"We've got help like, less than five minutes away, babe, I'm gonna be fine," Zack said soothingly. "Doc cleared me _and_ told me to get a handle on my new enhancements. I'm _good._"

Kunsel huffed at him, clearly not pleased with that assessment, but obviously realizing he wasn't getting anywhere arguing it. He glanced aside at where the two Turks were. "Any experience with these, Director?"

"Some," Veld said. "Nothing like the extensive use you SOLDIER boys see. But I've made myself familiar with the equipment. It's well after Vincent's time, though."

"That's fine, I'm treating him like a rookie anyway," Zack said, winking.

Vincent arched a brow, amused. "Are you expecting me to take offense?"

Zack blinked. "I mean, I'd _hope_ not. You seem like a pretty chill guy. And I'm sure you're stellar in your field, but you _are_ a newbie to being enhanced."

"I've been enhanced longer than you've been alive," Vincent drawled.

"Don't be a brat, Vin, you know what he means," Veld said, amused. "I think we can agree on that, Zack. That's why we're here."

"Excellent!" Zack grinned. "Alright, so, there's the two ends of the spectrum - minimum force and maximum force. Now, you have to have at least _some _nuance going on right now or you'd have wrecked that gun the first time you used it under stress. But you still need to know what you're capable of. So… we're going to test for all that."

Vincent stared at him. "_All_ of that."

"Well, I mean yeah. Not like, down-to-the-last-detail thoroughly but that's because you ideally continue it solo," Zack said. "We're not going to get every bit of training you need done in an afternoon. But we _can_ get you the basics to build on going forward. _That__'s_ the goal."

"That's not to say we can't help going forward," Kunsel added. "But I agree, the goal is to give a solid foundation for you to work off of. Once you know the gist of it all, it's easier to take it apart and figure out what you need to do."

"It can't hurt," Veld said. "SOLDIER's been fine-tuning the process a long time. They'd know, more than anyone."

"Very well," Vincent said. "Where do we start?"

Zack grinned. "It's easiest to do the fine control when you've emptied the tank out some, so to speak. So we get to start with the big flashy stuff. Let's see what we're capable of, yeah?"

'_What we're capable of'_ ended up being tests of strength both physical and magical, for both of them since Zack pointed out he was also getting used to a different level of enhancement.

It became clear very, very quickly that the pair were in a league of their own; only three other men would have ever stood a chance against either of them, and they were long gone.

"You get your skill up to your power, Zack, and SOLDIER's looking at its next living legend," Benji said. He'd had to bow out about half way; he could keep up on a skill level, certainly, but without being willing to strike critical hits against him he was at a severe disadvantage. Not to say Zack was dishing that out himself, but he could take him out by sheer force alone.

Which honestly said a lot; Benji was no pushover.

Zack grinned, shaking his arms out. "Giving me a run for my money there."

"Yeah, but you'd have won that," Benji said. "If it was a real fight? I think you'd have won."

"Maybe. I'm a little clumsy compared to you," Zack said. "Still adjusting."

"But adjusting _fast,_" he said. "Seriously. It's impressive."

"Thanks." He glanced over at Vincent. "You know, for someone who prefers ranged combat you're doing damn well too."

"He's doin' damn well _period,_" Benji said. "Not used to seeing that kind of power out of a _Turk._"

Vincent smiled faintly, but didn't argue the designation. "It's good timing for it."

"Yeah, you're tellin' me." Benji shook his head. "We should go over some of that. Practical application."

"What did you have in mind?" Zack asked.

"Sensing stuff," Benji said. "The longer distance the better. We can make a game out of it if you want."

"A game." Vincent arched a brow.

"SOLDIER hide and seek!" Zack grinned. "Where you use your senses to find people. Normally it's like, enhanced sense of smell or hearing, but we could totally do it just sensing out energy."

"I think it would be good practice," Benji said. "Especially with AVALANCHE out there still."

That, if nothing else, persuaded him. "What do we do?"

"Well, we'll have to tag some people whose energy stands out," Benji said. "To start with, at least. And then we'll spread out and you track us down."

"So like hide and seek, except with enhanced senses," Zack said. "Hence the name."

"I assume it's actually called some sort of tactical exercise?" Vincent guessed.

"Probably somewhere on paper. But no one actually calls it that," Zack said. "So… give it a try?"

"I suppose I will," Vincent said. "It seems a relevant skill to learn."

"Especially right now, yeah," Benji agreed. "Alright, I'll pick some people out and we'll go hunting. Well, you will. The Director and I will sit back and check your progress."

"Sounds like a plan," Veld said.

Benji managed to wrangle Aerith for a starting beacon, right before Drew pointed out that - having higher magic stores - Benji was more of a target for sensing easily than Drew himself was. So a grumbling Benji was roped into the process as well, leaving Kunsel and Veld to watch over the cameras as Zack and Vincent set out.

They were, naturally, successful. And once they'd found them the first time, there was utter certainty locating the now-familiar energy the second time. Only distance and burying themselves in the midst of a lot of other bright spots managed to make it more difficult, and even then it wasn't enough to truly hide them.

"I think they've got it," Veld said. "At least within a certain range."

"Yeah, at this point we'd need to start spreading through the city to do any good," Drew admitted.

"How far can you two stretch out?" Zack asked.

"Depends how well I know the energy I'm tracking, I guess, and how high it's running," Benji admitted. "Some would be real easy. I could probably find Drew within quite a few miles, if he was fighting or something, but we've known each other since bootcamp and fought together almost as long. Aerith and Valentine wouldn't be too hard either, just because of the kind of power they're packing, even when it's dormant."

"And anyone can learn this," Vincent observed.

"Well yeah, I mean I'm pretty sure you don't even have to be enhanced. Just makes it easier," Benji said.

"Could anyone learn to sense a particular _unenhanced_ individual?" Vincent asked.

"I do have a phone," Veld said.

"I'm not concerned with tracking you myself, at this point," Vincent said. "I'm wondering how accurately _she_ can."

Elfé. _Oh_.

Benji squinted at Veld, humming. "I mean, for the value of a human being's magic stores, you're not as impressive as you are elsewhere, Director. But you do stand out in a way."

"How's that?" Veld asked.

"Your energy _mixes_ with those materia you're carrying," Benji said. "So it's not so much that you're a bright light, but you're a stand-out color, I guess you could say."

"So yes, there's reason to believe she could learn to track me," Veld said.

"I doubt she's got a fix on you yet," Benji said. "But enough exposure and _attention_ to the exposure? Yeah, you'd have a familiar feel."

"Well shit." Zack frowned. "That's… actually that might be a fairly good thing, if we can teach _Valentine _to hide his."

"How so?" Veld asked.

"Look, she's got to realize that if she comes in guns blazing, Ravens everywhere, she's going to be met with resistance. It makes getting to you harder," Zack reasoned. "Especially if she's figured out you're a big shot. She has to have at least put together that you're a Turk."

"A reasonable assumption," Veld said. "So you think she's more likely to come for me alone."

"I mean… if I was trying to get to _one person,_ I wouldn't bring an army," Zack said. "Too much fuss. Better to sneak in solo, or in a very small, discreet team, right? Have your army on call for a distraction _after,_ sure, but not during the initial approach. That's not strategic. And AVALANCHE has had pretty good strategy when they care to deploy it."

"But if I can _hide myself,_ to where all she senses is Veld, he won't be alone," Vincent said, picking up on his train of thought.

"Exactly, yeah. It's not easy, and it's not _comfortable_, and I personally _suck_ at it, but I know it can be done. You didn't sense Sephiroth unless he wanted you to," Zack said.

"Genesis either, though _he_ usually wanted you to," Benji said. "Half showoff, half strategist. If people were blinded by his aura, they had no idea who he had with him. And the intimidation factor was nothing to sneeze at."

"He was running stealth last time I saw him," Zack said. "Didn't have a _clue_ he was there until there was a fireball in my face."

"Classic." Benji sighed. "I don't suppose Elfé has any sort of trademark? Besides that summon, I mean. That's a pretty good tell."

"She uses a katana, and she's got First-tier strength," Kunsel said. "If I remember correctly, she went up against Sephiroth, though they were interrupted. So it's going to take someone on that level to match her. Which, honestly, Valentine should be able to do just fine."

"Yeah I mean you held up to me fine," Zack said, glancing at him. "I think you're probably good against her. But we can go again a few times. Or hey, Drew's done katana hasn't he?"'

"Dabbled in it," Benji said. "He's taller than she is, and broader, but it's not a bad idea. You game, Valentine?"

"I have fairly extensive familiarity with katanas," Vincent said. "But a review may not be amiss." Not for something this important.

"Great, we'll tag him, then," Benji said. "We got a plan?"

"Something like that." Zack chuckled.

"Alright. You let me talk to Drew and we'll see about getting you set up." Benji clapped his hands. "And tell Cloud I said hi when you head back, Zack."

"You got it."


	31. Trust and Truces

Kunsel settled back, watching as somehow Valentine's spar with Drew turned into a three way match with Zack. How, exactly, that had happened he didn't know. He thought it involved the idea that she'd bring Shears, but honestly he really wasn't sure.

"At least they're having a good time," he muttered.

"There is that," Veld agreed, crossing his arms as he watched.

Kunsel glanced at him, immediately missing his helmet when Veld met his gaze. He hadn't been wearing it since they'd gotten Zack back, and there was an uncomfortable vulnerability in being _seen._ "So, uh. The board's probably too distracted to care much that Zack's not dead, huh?"

"I don't think that's their primary concern at the moment, no," Veld said.

Kunsel huffed. "Right. Sooo… how's that going on your end? Them being distracted."

Veld was silent so long that Kunsel honestly thought he wasn't going to get an answer. "They're going to need a solution, eventually. Can't string them along on raw fear forever. Fear makes people stupid."

"Yeah, I could see that." Kunsel arched a brow. "So you need a scapegoat. I'm guessing Fuhito wouldn't work, with the whole… idolizing Hojo bit."

Veld shook his head, eyes tracking Vincent. "Someday, you and I are going to sit down and talk sources."

Kunsel laughed, shrugging. "I mean, someone's got to."

"SOLDIER did just fine without their own Turk," Veld said, but his smile wasn't unkind.

"Yeah, and the Turks did fine without their own SOLDIER," Kunsel retorted evenly, arching a brow. He counted it a point in his favor that Veld seemed a little surprised. People probably didn't turn things around on him too much.

Well. He was in with a different crowd now.

"It works out alright, yeah?" Kunsel said softly. "Even if it's a little scary to watch."

"Somehow I can't picture you being afraid _of_ Zack," Veld said.

"_Of?_ Hell no, never," Kunsel said. "Of what's been done to him? Of what he could be up against? Well yeah. I'm not stupid."

"What he could be up against?" Veld repeated, curious.

"Look… I don't think you're going to just turn on us," Kunsel said. "You don't want that fight any more than we do, and it _would_ be a fight. We're not going down easy. But we're more alike than not in this. And if it comes down to your people or mine, I know what you're going to pick."

"You wouldn't respect me for less," Veld said. "Would you?"

"No, I wouldn't," Kunsel agreed. "I'd make the same call. I think that's human nature. But the fact remains that things could still spiral out of control."

"You still don't trust ShinRa," Veld said.

"Do you?" Kunsel turned it back on him. "Because I don't see why we should."

"Of course I don't. I'm their secret keeper; I know better." Veld sighed. "But you'll stay."

Kunsel's lips twisted into a wry smile. "There's something to be said for the comfort of the familiar verses the uncertainty of the unknown. The world isn't exactly SOLDIER friendly."

"No, I suppose it's not," Veld said. "Starting over's not fun. I don't advise it."

Kunsel hummed, wondering at which instance had brought that bit of advice on. Veld _would_ know, more than most. The man was a survivor on every level. "Did you ever think about leaving?"

Another pause, and a glance showed Veld looking at him with an arched brow. When Kunsel mirrored the gesture with a cheeky half smile, he snorted softly. "You expect I'll answer that?"

"I don't know," Kunsel admitted. "I mean, I'm pretty sure you've thought about it _now._ I meant like, before the shit hit the fan. It hadn't crossed my mind before the mess with the commanders, even with everything we did."

Veld sighed, shaking his head. "I've seen more than you have."

"Yeah, but where's your line?" Kunsel held up a hand. "I don't expect you to answer that. I'm not trying to make this a _thing,_ and I don't think either of us has room to fight for moral high ground. I was just curious."

"Your _just curious_ is going to land you in hot water someday," Veld said.

"But not today?" Kunsel said.

Veld chuckled softly. "No, not today. But it makes me wonder about your job choices. You're not exactly the typical SOLDIER."

"Yeah, well." Kunsel rubbed his hands together, gloves rasping softly. "When they told me I'd never be able to make First, I figured I was going to have to do things different, you know? I'd never be a fast, heavy hitter like Zack, and I don't have the magic going for me that carried Genesis when he was out muscled."

"So you outsmart your opponents," Veld said.

"I've always had a mind for strategy, and I'm fairly forgettable. People don't think about me, don't see me as a threat until it's way too late - especially hanging out with Zack, you know? He's such a big personality I just… fade," Kunsel said. "And I'm fine with that."

"You _like_ that," Veld corrected. "You were never in it for the fame. Being able to get in and out, do you job, and not have to deal with any fuss? That's perfect for you."

Kunsel smirked. "Pegged me fast, didn't you?"

"You're only forgettable to people who prize those heavy hitters," Veld said. "I make it my business to know who else is in the information game."

"And I count, huh?" Kunsel hummed. "I think I'm flattered, Director."

"You're the difference between SOLDIER being a menace, and SOLDIER being a threat," Veld said. "The potential has always been there, of course. But someone has to be there to give that push. And it wasn't Zack who gathered everyone."

Kunsel stared at him in surprise a moment, making a thoughtful sound. "They wouldn't have known without me, that's for sure."

"I don't know that they'd have mobilized without you, either," Veld said. "Or at least someone like you."

"Huh." Kunsel shrugged. "Guess we're not going to know."

"I guess not," Veld said, willing to let it go.

Kunsel, of course, was not so experienced in that. Or as inclined, regardless. "So, we know what happens to SOLDIER with a Turk of their own. What happens to the Turks with a SOLDIER of their own?"

Veld hummed, eyes straying back to where Vincent was working with Zack and Drew; he wasn't making as many hits - no surprise, the man was a ranged expert and this was a melee fight - but he wasn't _taking_ any, either, almost effortlessly evasive. The first time he'd burst into crimson mist when Zack got too close, he'd heard a startled curse from the SOLDIERs, but to their credit they seemed all the more determined to take him down. But he was undeniably holding his own, against two of SOLDIER's best.

_Turks__' SOLDIER indeed._ What _did _that mean, strategically?

"You sound like you have thoughts," Veld said, half observation and half buying himself time as he mulled it over.

"I've got thoughts on everything, Director." Kunsel shrugged. "Why, you want to hear them?"

"I'd be interested. I've assessed the enhanced forces before, but from an outsider's perspective," he said. "This is different."

"Yeah… at least you've got some ideas about his top-end… not that he maxxed out, I don't think either of them did, and we didn't test Limits either," Kunsel said. "But you've got some idea of what's in his arsenal. And that's _without_ practice."

"How much improvement do you usually see with practice?" He asked.

"I mean, it _usually _depends a lot on which tier we're talking about," Kunsel said. "But that's just because there's _such_ a difference between enhanced and non. So of course when someone goes from cadet to Third, it's a huge jump, and just continues as they settle into their enhancements. It's still a jump from Third to Second, but not nearly so much. Second to First isn't an obvious change, but that's mostly because they're so used to it by then that they know how to handle things."

"And what do you think that means for Vincent?" He asked.

"If you're comparing where he was to where he is now, you're probably looking at a nonenhanced-to-Third style jump," Kunsel said. He paused, considering. "Honestly you might have that kind of continued improvement, too. Not necessarily in strength, but in handling his enhancements - speed, managing enhanced senses like smell and the general sensing energy thing he's doing now, stuff like that."

"Hone it and get better, standard for anyone," Veld said, nodding. It helped that you could apply logic to it.

"Yeah, that." Kunsel nodded. "He and Zack should work together some more, when they have the chance. It'll be good for both of them, and it's about the best matchup you're going to get."

"You'd place Vincent's eventual level up with the top of SOLDIER, then," Veld said.

"When he's pushed," Kunsel agreed. "He doesn't seem… he pulls off _looking _confident, don't get me wrong. The man's got a poker face to kill for. 'Tentative' isn't the right word, and I don't know that 'uncertain' is quite right either. But he doesn't know what he's capable of yet. In anyone else I'd call it unsure."

"Fair enough," Veld said. He knew what he meant, and could read it even clearer in how Vincent handled himself. "He's still testing himself."

"Yeah." Kunsel smiled faintly. "You're going to have yourself a real heavy hitter, when he adjusts. You might not need us to take AVALANCHE on."

"He's just one man, there's a lot of Ravens still," Veld said.

"I think you know I didn't really mean all of AVALANCHE," Kunsel said.

Veld hummed quietly. That was a conversation he wasn't having, not with SOLDIER. Not even this SOLDIER, who he had to admit he was starting to like more than most.

Kunsel watched him a moment in silence, clearly weighing his words. "You should talk to Rayleigh, later. When you get her back, you're going to need to do something about that materia."

Zack calling for Kunsel saved Veld from having to respond, but he couldn't help but go still at his wording.

_When_ you get her back.

Such a little thing to say, such an offhand comment. He couldn't have known how much that meant.


	32. Complications

As much as Veld was enjoying the poetry in motion that was the three men sparring, Kunsel's words wouldn't leave him be. He ended up excusing himself, giving Vincent a fleeting smile of reassurance before ducking out of the training room and heading for medical.

It wasn't hard to find Rayleigh, coming out of Cloud's room, and it was clear something had immediately given away that he wanted to talk. Then again, he wasn't exactly one for just coming down to medical to visit unless one of his people was there. And as fond as he was of Aerith, it wasn't that sort of bond.

"What can I do for you, Director?" Rayleigh asked.

"If you've got a minute, I'd like to speak privately," Veld said.

She arched a brow, but led the way back to her office. When the door was closed, she waved him towards a chair, settling at her desk, and waited patiently for him to speak first. He admired that.

"You've looked over my daughter's medical file," he said, more confirmation than any sort of question. Rayleigh nodded anyway. "What are your thoughts on extracting the materia Hojo implanted?"

"Theoretically, it should be a simple surgery," Rayleigh said. "The literal, physical extraction should be simple enough, it wasn't a terribly complex insertion to begin with."

"But you foresee complications," Veld said.

"There is a condition commonly referred to as 'psychic shock' that can occur related to materia use, particularly related to materia dependency - part of why regular materia use is something to be carefully monitored," she said. "When one overuses materia, it can cause a multitude of ailments. Burnout is common for those who overuse it in a short period of time, where it can damage your magic channels. But extended, long term _regular_ usage has its dangers, even if you're not using it in great amounts. The most common problem is magic fatigue, which is the same principle as muscle fatigue, coming about from overuse. But there is also magic _dependency,_ most commonly seen in people who regularly have curative materia used on them, but also seen in people who've spent extended periods of time casting regularly."

"So what, an addiction?" Veld said.

"Essentially, yes," she agreed. "Both the use of materia, and having materia used _on_ you creates a temporary high, though one is much more noticeable than the other. Curative boosts your serotonin, it's a notable _'feel-good'_ high. _Using _materia, however, gives an adrenaline high. As you're no doubt aware, this increases your heart rate and blood pressure, straining your system. In extreme cases, the user becomes a candidate for heart trouble; even someone with an immune system as robust as a SOLDIER can potentially have a heart attack."

"I would assume she's at risk for that, then," Veld said.

"Definitely. But once the body is _used to _extensive and regular materia usage, you can't safely just _quit,_" Rayleigh explained. "That's one place where psychic shock comes in. Psychic shock is essentially any sudden mental strain, and can even be occasionally used when referencing emotionally-based shock. When I use it, I almost exclusively reference magic-based shock. That can come from sudden overuse, such as an unexpected limit break or someone casting a spell above their magic levels, or from suddenly _ceasing_ use, such as an interrupted high level spell or the sudden withdrawal from using it regularly to not using it at all."

"And given she's been attached to an active materia all this time, it's reasonable to assume removal would send her into psychic shock," Veld said grimly.

"It wouldn't immediately, I don't _think,_" Rayleigh said. "I make no promises, she's a unique case. It may be possible, however, to have her regularly, manually cast spells of decreasing power until she's weaned off it. That's the general protocol for SOLDIERs who are in that condition."

"There's really not another option, is there?" Veld said. "She has to have it removed, or it's going to kill her."

"Yes," Rayleigh said. "I don't even think enhancement would be enough to prevent long-term consequences. It's phenomenal she's survived this long, frankly."

"We also don't know what condition she's actually in," Veld said. "She'd looked tired. But I think that's merited, considering what all has happened."

"So it's hard to say what all is factoring in, yes," she agreed. "But I would guarantee magic fatigue. No one alive has the stores to have an active materia for over a decade and not be exhausted, even if it was a subtle pull on their reserves."

"It may have been, but it can't be now that she's active, fighting the likes of SOLDIER," Veld said.

"No, I wouldn't think so," Rayleigh said. "That's significant mental and physical strain."

Veld was silent a moment. "What are the odds that could feed into amnesia?"

Rayleigh arched a brow. "I wouldn't have expected it to _cause_ amnesia, but it could certainly complicate things. A strained mind doesn't recover quickly from anything. I take it she's exhibited symptoms?"

"She remembered me when she saw me, but not her name when Vincent mentioned it. Not the bombing, either, which should have left an impression," Veld said.

"Retrograde amnesia," Rayleigh said. "Or at least I'd assume, since it appears she can remember more recent things. It's the inability to remember things from a specific period of time back."

"I'm familiar." Veld frowned. "What can we do for it?"

"It depends on the cause of it," she said. "If it's emotional or mental trauma, therapy can help. If it was literal, physical trauma, treating the trauma may help. But I have no guarantees. It's not a fully understood disorder with a neat solution. I'm sorry."

Veld nodded slightly. He'd honestly expected that much, but it was still unpleasant news to hear. "It is what it is. I'm just glad you can do something about the materia. We can handle anything else from there."

"I should be able to, yes," she agreed. "So long as we're able to wean her off materia usage as mentioned. It's not something she can just _stop._ Not after all this time."

"I recognize that." Veld bit back a sigh. "Thank you for your input, Professor. How's Strife improving?"

"Amazingly well, which I can only attribute to the awakening of his bond," Rayleigh said. "He shouldn't be improving this quickly. Not that I'm complaining, I'm _thrilled._"

"But it's unnatural," Veld said.

"Very much so," she agreed. "There is no scientific backing for what just happened between them."

Veld smiled faintly. "Your favorite sort of phenomena, I'm sure."

"It just means we have more to learn, as a scientific community," she said.

"Always more to learn," Veld agreed. "Well. I leave you to it."

"Of course. Do take care, Director," she said.

"You too." He was somewhat less than surprised to find Vincent waiting when the elevator opened. "Please tell me that you haven't been riding that thing since I left."

"My timing is just that good," Vincent deadpanned.

Veld snorted, stepping in and hitting the button for the Turk floor. "Done with the SOLDIERs?"

"For now," Vincent said. "Was the Professor of any help?"

"She was informative," Veld said.

"Fun." Vincent arched a brow at the look he was given, a tiny smile curving his lips.

Veld snorted and shook his head, watching the floors tick by. "As if I have time for that."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Vincent said. He didn't speak again until they'd reached Veld's office, perching lightly on his desk. "Will she be able to help?"

"Theoretically," Veld said. "It's not like there's a known precedent here."

"Fair." Vincent was silent a moment, watching him sort reports. "Do you think you can talk her into staying?"

"Somehow, I imagine she'll be a harder sell than you," Veld said.

"…will you force her to stay?" Vincent asked quietly.

It was Veld's turn to be silent, staring unseeingly at the papers in his hands. "I suppose that's the question, isn't it. Do I have that right? She's a grown woman now."

"She's dying," Vincent said, painfully gentle.

"I know." It wasn't news. It still hurt. To think that he could lose her, on the cusp of getting her back - "God, I know, Vincent."

Vincent made a soft sound, reaching over and squeezing his shoulder. "Talk it out?"

Veld sighed, rubbing his face. "I want her back."

"Of course you do," Vincent said. "She's your daughter."

"I have no idea if she actually wants anything to do with me, or if she just wants to sate her curiosity," Veld admitted.

"Can that be enough?" Vincent asked. "If she's willing to talk to you, does it matter why?"

"I… it's a start?" He hedged.

"You can build on that," he pointed out.

Veld nodded slowly. "Yeah… assuming she _wants_ more than one conversation."

"And that's the rub," Vincent said. "We can't guarantee that."

"No," he agreed softly. "We can't."

All he could do was hope, and he was severely out of practice.


	33. Hypothetical Solutions

It went against the grain for Veld to outsource help on such a personal matter. If he'd had his way, this whole thing with his daughter would have been Turk Business - all caps, full stop, no exceptions. But beggars couldn't be choosers, and while all his Turks knew how to handle magic - hell, Vincent was _good_ at it - the fact was that if you wanted an actual practiced expert, you needed SOLDIER.

It was a sure bet the Firsts were sharing information, even if only between the four of them, confirmed when Richards didn't seem surprised in the slightest to be called on.

Veld wasn't even surprised when Zack and Kunsel came along. _Aerith,_ however, was a bit of a surprise. "Well, full house."

"We had ideas," Zack said.

"Yeah, actually I think we might have some partial solutions," Richards said, playing with the bangle around his wrist. "Cause I finally put those dots together about 'embedded summon' and you asking about magic addiction and stuff. Surprised I didn't think of that sooner, I've been in that boat. Spent a whole campaign in Wutai on mage duties, came back practically drunk on it."

"And how did you recover from that?" Veld asked.

"Very, very carefully," he said. "See, thing is, when you're using _that much magic_ regularly you're flirting with burnout too. And magic addiction plus burnout is a one-way trip to psychic shock."

"Because when you're burnt out you can't use magic at all, which means you can't wean yourself it," Zack said. "Nasty situation."

"Now, obviously her situation is different in some ways," Richards continued. "It's passive magic use, which means it's affecting her channels differently than active use. I won't go into all of that unless you want me to, but basically what that _means_ is it takes a _lot_ longer to burn out. And that's what we need to maintain."

"Passive use?" Veld ventured. "How do you maintain that? I was under the impression that 'constantly active materia' wasn't a _thing._"

"Yes and no." The swordmage made a so-so gesture. "Just having a materia equipped in something touching you means you have a constant connection. It's not enough to make an obvious effect on your stores, and it won't be enough at first. And there _are_ a few materia that are constantly active that have a slightly stronger pull - Chocobo Lures, for example, don't have to be 'activated' they just… work. Because they're tapped in. Added Effect is another one. Elemental, too. They're rare but they exist."

"If we can't start with those, how exactly is it relevant?" Veld asked.

"Context," he said. "The big thing right now that we need is a way to _precisely control_ how much magic is flowing in and out. And I have a step-down solution to that. First assessment is with a Sense, _prior_ to surgery, to figure out where her magic reserves stand, and how much the Summon is taking out, how fast. And then we MP drain her to match."

"Passive magic loss," Veld murmured thoughtfully.

"Exactly. It does what we need, but isn't as hard on her," he said. "I mean, it's not _pleasant_, but there are things she can do to help mediate the effects of it."

"I thought the Osmose materias took set amounts," Veld said.

"Sure, if you use the default spell," Richards agreed. "But you spend enough time using materia, you learn to cast in fractions. How to start something and jerk it back, control the ebb and flow of it. It takes time and refinement that not everybody puts in the work for, partly because most people don't know it's possible, partly because it's so much work. But we've got a few of us who can switch off doing it."

"He's going to teach me," Aerith said. "And I'm going to talk to Rayleigh about seeing if there's anything I can do to heal whatever damages the materia use has left on her."

"Traditional healing magic can't be used for burnout issues," Veld said.

"I know," she said softly. "But I have _options._"

He smiled softly. "Alright. If you're sure."

"You know I can't watch someone hurting when I can help," she said.

"Thank you, then," Veld said quietly.

Aerith nodded. "I'll do what I can."

"It's appreciated." Veld sighed. "So. You've talked with Rayleigh and she thinks this is a viable strategy for handling weaning her off any magic addiction."

"Viable, _and_ safer," Richards said. "She gets burntout, we're _screwed._ You can't have her casting summon-level daily to wean off. And I don't even know that that would register the same way. She's used to a steady flow; maintaining a steady flow, and steadily decreasing it, seems the best bet."

"That's going to require someone sitting with her around the clock, casting mentally demanding spells _constantly,_" Vincent said. "Is that safe for the _casters?_"

"We'll have to switch off regularly," Benji said. "And be _very _careful. But I mean… there's a life on the line. We're going to have to risk it."

"Even for someone outside your little circle," Veld mused.

"SOLDIER pays their debts," Richards said flatly. "You gave us Zack back. Got him help. Got rid of the threats that might have put him back in danger. I mean, you've got some favors due, Director. No better time to cash in."

"No, there isn't," he agreed quietly.

"And it's fitting," Kunsel said. "Can't imagine you've got any more good karma coming your way these days than we do. Might as well take advantage."

"That wasn't a complaint," Veld said. "I just feel better understanding motivations."

"Yeah well. We're paying a debt," Richards said. "Simple, cut-and-dried. You gave us our brother back. We'll get your daughter."

"She may not be eager to accept SOLDIER help," Veld warned. "I'm not even sure she'll accept mine."

"Yeah, well, she can resent you _after_ we're sure she'll live," Richards said. "I can cast Sleep over a block if I have to. I've put down other Firsts. I think I can get an untrained vigilante just fine."

"I don't think she carries defensive materia," Veld said.

"Nono, a _block._ Like, a neighborhood?" Richards sketched out a square in the air. "I'm talking distance, not defense. I can take her out before she even knows to activate it."

Kunsel snickered at the look the two Turks treated him to. "Benji used to go toe to toe with Genesis in competition. The man's a First for a reason."

"What's the cost for a spell that big?" Vincent asked.

"Several ethers and a couple minutes to catch my breath," he admitted. "But it's saved lives before, ending a situation before it can really get hostile. The problem is, once people know you can do it, they can prepare for it. So it's not a trick I use real often."

"I love how 'I hate to be predictable' is your reason for not using an exhausting spell regularly," Kunsel said. "Classic, Benji."

"I am SOLDIER through and through." He laughed.

"So it seems," Veld agreed. "That… has promise. I hesitate to just capture her and do all this without her consent, but…"

"But we're talking about saving her life or letting her die knowing you could have helped, and parental concern is winning out over ethics," Kunsel said. "We get it."

"Yeah." He sighed. "Yeah, about like that."

"Look, give her a chance first. Talk to her. Try to win her over. There's no reason we have to use brute force right out of the gate," Richards said. "But if we _do__…_ it's an option."

"Good to know," Veld said.

"…could I learn that?" Vincent asked. "I am, after all, more likely to see her before any of you, if she's tracking Veld specifically."

"Yeah absolutely." He nodded. "You've got the stores for it, which is the big deal."

"Actually, you could probably learn to drain her too," Kunsel said. "Anyone with the patience and focus to be a sniper has the mental focus to do that sort of pinpoint work."

Vincent blinked, smiling faintly. "I'm beginning to see what Veld meant."

"Yeaaaah, I've got a reputation with the Turks," Kunsel admitted, grinning shamelessly.

"Mm_hm_."

"…did you seriously go digging in Turk stuff? _Kuns?_" Zack arched a brow.

"I figured a man partnered to the man who went on to become the Director of Administrative Research probably had a reputation I could dig up," Kunsel said. "And I was right."

"…I'd be interested in what you found," Vincent said.

"As would I," Veld agreed. "And _where._"

"Midgar boy born and bred, Director - I know this city inside out, and what dark corners to peek in if I want some info," Kunsel said. "I'm not handing those sources over. But I'd be happy to share what I found out."

Veld nodded. "Fair enough."

"But we've got some training first," Richards said. "The more people on this project the better. I'll be tagging our general, too; he's got more MP than he knows what to do with right now."

"I really kinda do," Zack admitted. "It's bubbly."

"_Bubbly?_" Veld arched a brow.

"He's hyper aware of his levels; he'll adjust," Richards said. "Comes with the heightened senses with this last boost."

"Uh _huh._" Veld didn't ask further, though he glanced at Vincent thoughtfully. Vincent, who had always known him far too well, just shrugged in answer to the unasked question, and he let it drop for now. "Is there anyone left who's actually fought her?"

Zack clicked his tongue, thinking. "I… y'know, I don't think so? She's not the take-prisoners type; the only one that got away was Sephiroth, and that was more a mutual break off of the fight, if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, they matched blades once, but it was interrupted," Kunsel said. "She held her own, though, which says a lot. There wasn't the sort of destruction that said he was giving it his all, but I doubt he was _playing_ either."

"Checking himself for the sake of not wrecking everything, but still plenty lethal against your average opponent, yeah," Zack said. "Sounds about right. I mean, the man could one-shot a Grand Horn and not disturb the dirt if he felt like keeping it tidy."

"He could also cleave entire buildings into chunks when it suited him," Veld said. "There had to be a middle ground for him."

"And apparently her, when she's inclined," Kunsel said. "But I definitely wouldn't send less than a First tier enhanced after her. Which, I mean, you've got that."

"I'll make sure he doesn't confront her alone," Vincent said. "Though I would very much be interested in those lessons in hiding my energy."

"You got it." Richards nodded. "We should probably get started, then. No telling when she'll come."

Vincent nodded. "Let's go."

"I could hang out with the Director til you're done?" Zack offered. "I've been exercising this morning, I'm technically supposed to break between activities. Doc's orders."

"Be my guest. I'd like to have a word with your soulmate and he behaves better when you're there." Veld smiled faintly at Kunsel's sputter. "Lunch sound good?"

"Lunch sounds _great._" Zack grinned.


	34. More Than Their Titles

Fuhito had taken the knowledge of their backer to his grave; neither Shears nor Elfé had any idea who it had been, or how to contact them. So far, the funds appeared to be staying in their bank account, but no _more_ was coming in. Which could be a problem.

Nothing like the problem of finding out her father wasn't just _a_ Turk, but _the_ Turk, but that was a whole other deal. Shears had done a little digging - Junon was ShinRa's too, and the directors all had rumors and reputation aplenty to dig up - which told her about him as a Turk. But that wasn't really what she wanted to know. She didn't want to know The Director.

She wanted to know the man behind the title. She wanted to know _her_ _father._ And it didn't seem like it had occurred to anyone they talked to that that side existed.

Had he lost that, during the same bombing that had stolen her memories? Somehow, she didn't think so. Not the way he'd looked at her. Not the way he'd said her name, firm and sure but… with an _ache,_ just barely detected. His _partner_ had said he'd thought she was dead, which explained why he'd never come for her. Now that he knew otherwise, she knew he'd keep coming for her. That he wanted… something. A relationship again, she thought.

But would he take Elfé, instead of Felicia? She wasn't sure she knew how to be Felicia, after all this time. 'Elfé' wasn't a mask she put on, it was who she was now. Would he accept that? _Could_ he, being such a powerful man in ShinRa, accept the leader of AVALANCHE as his daughter?

Could she accept him?

Or… could she _turn him?_ She hadn't forgotten what else his partner had said. That 'certain loyalties' were _questionable._ She could work with that.

It was worth trying.

Determined now, she headed back to Midgar.

* * *

Veld wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. Another assault on the Tower? Zack had had a good point, that didn't make any sense strategically. And Elfé was a strategist. So she'd likely try to get him alone, only he didn't spend a lot of _alone time _these days. It left him wondering if maybe he should leave an opening. Would she be desperate enough to take it, or would she sense a trap and wait for a time of _her_ choosing? Was she even in Midgar yet? So many questions, and none of them answerable.

As it turned out, he didn't have long to wait.

He was walking back from a lunch break - alone, for the moment, because it was crowded and Vincent was not a fan of groups of people - when she simply stepped out of an alley.

He didn't freeze, exactly, but he stopped short at being _so close._ "…Elfé."

She smiled faintly. "Father."

The word took his breath away, and he swallowed hard, nodding. "I don't suppose you're here to chat."

"I'd be happy to talk," she said. "But not here."

"I could meet you -"

"No," she said quietly, shaking her head. "With all due respect, no. We need to go now."

She didn't say so, but he knew she had to have realized that giving him _time_ was a terrible idea; time meant setting up operatives, meant having _backup_ \- which, as far as she knew, he didn't now. Or at least the minimum amount. Now was, as far as she knew, her best bet, catching him as close to off guard as possible.

Veld knew better. He still hesitated, but nodded, stepping towards her. "To _talk,_ then."

"Just to talk," she promised. "And you can leave at any time."

He smiled faintly at that, wondering if she really believed that or if she was just trying to put him at ease regardless of the truth. Maybe she _did_ intend to let him go… he couldn't see AVALANCHE as a whole agreeing with that, but it depended on how much sway she had as their leader. "Lead on. Or do I need blindfolded?"

"I rented a hotel room," she said, glancing at him. "Neutral territory."

He arched a brow, impressed. "A good idea."

"I thought it might appeal," she said, heading back down the alley to another street.

They took a winding path, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was to keep her from being easily tracked by others or if she genuinely thought she could confuse his sense of direction. The area he ended up in was not, by any means, high class, but it was serviceable - and it was in Sector One, directly across from Eight, with Zero in the way. Did she know Eight was Turk Jurisdiction, or was it a lucky arrangement?

He doubted it was luck; while he doubted she knew about Rufus specifically, she'd likely been privy to much of the information he'd passed along and it was fairly common knowledge now besides.

"You look a million miles away," she said, leading him to one of the doors and letting them in.

"You've given me a lot to think about," Veld said evenly.

She hummed softly in agreement, turning to face him properly. She had a good deadpan, but her eyes were telling, all the hesitation and uncertainty and… hope? She looked lost, and he just wanted to pull her into his arms and shield her from all the conflict she was caught up in.

Whatever she read from his expression had her shoulders relaxing slightly, a small, faint smile on her lips. "I wasn't sure you'd come."

"But you hoped," he said softly.

"Of course," she said. "You're my father."

"I wasn't sure that'd be enough," Veld admitted. "Given my… occupation."

"I'm not here to talk to the head of the Turks," she said. "And I don't think you're here to talk to the head of AVALANCHE."

"That easy?" Veld arched a brow.

"For now," she said. "Unless you _want_ to make this complicated?"

"Not particularly, no," he said. But he couldn't see this going any other way, short of a miracle. And he'd never been that lucky.

"But," she said, arching a brow.

"But," he murmured, shrugging in lieu of an explanation.

She didn't press. She also didn't sit - neither of them sat, though with her 'enhancements' on top of her youth, she could have been on her feet long before he was.

Then again, they weren't worried about each other. Not _yet._

Elfé watched him, silent and still so _lost._ "…you know, I had a whole speech planned."

"Further than I'd gotten," Veld said.

"What, nothing?" She didn't seem to believe that.

Veld smiled ruefully, shaking his head. It wasn't entirely true, but it was close enough. "I had too much I wanted to say to settle on any one thing yet."

"What if you could only tell me one thing," she prompted. "Just _one._"

"I love you." Not words he'd said near often enough in his life, but goddess bless did he mean it. He wet his lips, wiping away the pained cast to his smile, and swallowed against the choking emotion in his throat. "And I'm sorry."

Elfé sobered immediately, eyes a touch wide. Caught off guard. "…that's two things."

"I've always been an overachiever," he quipped.

"Is that so," she said, smiling faintly. "Must run in the family."

Veld chuckled. "Sure seems like it does, doesn't it?"

She nodded, sobering. "What happened to my mother?"

"Died in the bombing," Veld said.

"You thought _I__'d_ died," she said.

"But I didn't see you die," Veld said. "I trusted someone I… I'd _thought_ was my friend."

She hummed, looking away. "I suppose we've both made bad choices there, too."

"Fuhito?" Veld guessed.

She grimaced. "Did you know about his plans?"

"You'd have to clarify," Veld said. "I probably know more than you thought I did. But I'm under no delusions that I know everything."

"After he died, I went looking for his plans," Elfé said quietly. "He wanted to save the world, just… not humanity."

Veld arched a brow. "Pardon?"

"He wasn't going to stop at ShinRa," she clarified. "He genuinely thought the best way to save the planet was to wipe out humanity."

Veld spared a moment to wonder if _Rufus_ had known what a madman he'd been working with, before dismissing the thought; it wouldn't do any good. "That explains why he was fine with such high civilian casualties."

"I suppose it does," she agreed softly. After a moment, she looked at him. "That's not what I want. I _do_ want to save the world, but I don't think wiping out mankind is any kind of solution."

"I'm very glad to hear that," Veld said. "Our new President has similar goals."

She arched a brow, clearly skeptical. "ShinRa wants to save the planet, after ruining it for decades?"

"Reeve does," Veld said. "He's always wanted to help people, and he's good at it. His father designed the reactors. If anyone can figure out how to do the same thing, but _safely_, it's Reeve."

She frowned slightly. "…that sounds familiar."

"You'd met him, as a child," Veld said.

"No, not like that." She shook her head. "More recently. I think we had intel on him."

"That may be. He was the head of City Planning - still is, technically, he's just forced to delegate much more now," Veld said. "I wouldn't be surprised if you'd had information on directors."

"There wasn't much on you," she admitted.

"Of course not." He smiled faintly. "Even in ShinRa, I'm a bit of a mystery."

"I suppose that suits your position," she said. "It's just as well. That's not what I want to know."

"Ask me, then," Veld said. "I'll do what I can to answer."

* * *

**A/N:** Quick note, I have finally ran out of buffer, lol. I'm going to probably end up taking a short hiatus while I work on my present for the Exchange, before coming back to this. (If, by some miracle I _do_ actually end up writing more of this in time, I'll see about posting. But don't worry if there's a pause. I'll be back.


	35. Like Looking in a Mirror

**A/N:** No, I'm not done with DW _but,_ people need distractions and I need motivation so I asked Tumblr and the general consensus was that I should post what I have, as I have it. SO! Here we are, back with updates. There are, at this time, three more chapters done so you'll have that, minimum. Hopefully more. Do enjoy.

* * *

They talked.

It should be prefaced that Veld was not a talker, and neither was Elfé, but for once, the motivation was there. They were both desperate to bridge the gap between them, reaching blindly and letting themselves dare to hope they could meet in the middle.

Veld was not especially good at _hope,_ either. He dealt in facts, and the facts here were not promising. But, how could he do anything but try?

So they talked. Halting, at first. Careful. _Cautious._ They didn't know each other, and with every moment it was clearer to Veld that she was most definitely not Felicia anymore. Felicia had always reminded him of Jess, sweet as pie with an impish streak a mile wide.

Elfé, though… Elfé reminded him of _him,_ him at his most iron willed, bullheaded, _digging-my-heels-in _stubborn. If she hadn't wanted this so bad, he didn't doubt he wouldn't have gotten anywhere with her. She had his stubbornness, his stoicness, his sternness, and by the gods he was the most conflicted combination of proud and exasperated right then. He'd said more than once, when Vincent had joked about being glad there was only one of him, that he'd probably have shot any duplicate; _he_ didn't want to deal with himself, and the irony was crushing.

Especially because it made things… difficult, when it came to going forward.

He caught her flexing her hand stiffly, and took the only opening he was likely to get. "What do you know about that materia?"

It was clear she was caught off guard, and immediately on the defensive. "…not as much as I'd like."

A safe answer that told him very little indeed. "I did some digging, when we found your files. It's a fraction of the summon Zirconiade, and Hojo has somehow managed to fuse it so it ties directly into your magic stores."

"Which gives me my strength?" She nodded slightly at his hum of confirmation. "I suppose that makes sense."

"But it comes at a price," Veld said, watching. "I've been consulting with several mages and physicians about the effects of long sustained magic use. Familiar with any of that?"

"I'm not a fan of magic," she said, lips quirking in a wry smile. "Ironic, I realize."

"…you come by it honest," Veld said dryly. "But fair enough. Suffice to say, there are dangerous long-term effects of magic use, and the more powerful the magic, the more dangerous. It starts simple, mental and physical fatigue, but it can lead to addiction, and put you at higher risk of heart problems. And in your case, since the materia is constantly attempting to cast without your conscious effort… it would bleed you dry of energy, and eventually, your life."

Elfé stared at him a long moment in silence, flexing her hand. From her grim expression, she believed him, which was a tremendous relief; it would save them trouble. "It sounds like you've given this a lot of thought."

"My daughter's life is on the line," Veld said mildly. "I've never taken anything more seriously in my life."

She smiled faintly, but there was something guarded in her gaze. It immediately put a low feeling of dread in Veld's stomach. "I'm not Felicia."

"No, you're not," Veld said. "Talking to you has made that clear. But you're still my daughter."

"I think you're a little late to take care of me," she said, dark eyes watching him closely. "I'm a grown woman, _Father._ And we walk very different paths."

It hurt, all the more knowing she was right. "That doesn't stop me from caring. And if _you_ didn't care, you wouldn't have sought me out."

"Can't a woman be curious?" she asked.

"You've got too much on the line to meet me over a little curiosity," Veld said.

She hummed softly, leaning back casually in her chair. "You're awfully sure of yourself."

"You think I got in my position without a background in psychology?" It was one of the few classes he hadn't minded early on, actually.

She mirrored the gesture. "Oh, so you're analyzing me. That's so much better."

Veld snorted. Gods, it was like looking at himself, but half his age and twice as cocky. "I don't need to analyze you. It's like looking into a slightly distorted mirror."

"I am _nothing _like you," she snarled.

"Hyper competent? Loyal to your people, even at risk to yourself? Willing to sacrifice, kill, and die for what you believe in?" Veld stared her down. "Or did you mean intelligent, a little too serious, and a lot too stubborn?"

Elfé pursed her lips. "You work for _ShinRa._"

"And you're an ecoterrorist," he said. "Not the most likely of pairs, I admit. But we're more alike than you want to admit, and not admitting it changes _nothing._ Felicia was a daddy's girl and just like her mama. You're more like me, by _far,_ and clearly hate the fact. But it's still true."

She glowered at him. "I don't have to listen to this. Whatever game you're playing, it's not going to work."

He wanted to snap back, to rise to the tone and give as good as he'd gotten, but he realized that wasn't going to get him anywhere he wanted to be. If he drove a wedge between them now, the damages might be irreparable; he wouldn't - _couldn__'t_ \- take the risk.

A deep breath, and he held a hand up. "We're not here to argue. It doesn't help either of us."

Elfé was still glaring, but inclined her head, conceding his point. All wasn't lost, then.

"I care," Veld said softly. "Whether you do or not. Whether you want me to or not. I don't want you to die, and I can't help but think you're too much of a survivor to want to die either."

There, finally a smile, even if it was little more than a crook in the corner of her mouth. "I have no intention of dying any time soon."

"Then you need help," Veld said. "It doesn't have to come from me, but I _do_ have better resources."

"Resources that would help the head of AVALANCHE?" she asked skeptically. "Or resources that would help the daughter of a Turk? I don't think I need to tell you which I identify as."

"Resources that have taken an oath to help people, _regardless_ of who they are," Veld said.

"Uh huh." She arched a brow. "You can't think I plan to just walk into the ShinRa building. There's more relevant threats to my life there than this materia."

"It's your best chance," he said. "You have to admit, if ShinRa knows _anything_ it's mako and materia."

"And how to murder the opposition," she said smoothly. "You want me there on what,_ faith?_ That you'll suddenly be able to keep me safe?"

And she had his talent for hitting unerringly at her opponent's sore spots, too. He let her see it hit, and saw a mix of surprise and grim satisfaction. "I know 'I'm sorry' is too little, too late. I let you down, in the worst way possible. I failed you as a father. _No one_ knows that better than me. No one has thought about it more than me."

"And you want a second chance," she said.

"Who doesn't?" Veld shook his head. "Maybe you don't need or want a father. _Fine,_ I can respect that. Maybe you don't want me in your life at all. _Fine._ It's enough to know you're alive. Let me help keep you that way."

"And what will you do, I wonder, when the men holding your leash send different attack dogs after me?" She asked softly. "What would you do if you had to choose between me, and one of your Turks?"

"Because of course it'll come to that, won't it?" Veld said, turning it back on her. "You're in too deep and can't admit that there's even a chance of change on the wind. That there could be a difference with someone else in charge."

"Can there?" she asked. "Can one person change an entire company - an entire _empire_ \- on a cultural level?"

"It's more than one person," Veld admitted. "And no, I'm not giving you classified details. Not yet. Not just to _maybe_ win you over. But suffice to say this has been a long time in coming, and there are a lot of big players aligned to change. It won't happen instantly. It _can__'t_ happen instantly. But it can happen. And it will."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," she said mildly.

"I guess you'd know," Veld said.

"And yet you want to 'save' me," she said.

"Of course I do," Veld said.

Elfé shook her head. "There was a little girl who desperately needed her father, Veld, and you were right. She died. _I_ don't need you, and I don't need your help."

"Elfé -" He paused, hearing the distinct, subtle click of a gun being readied, and swore. He'd let his guard down.

Shears came in from an attached room, gun trained on Veld and far too close to miss. "We done here, Elfé?"

From her expression, she hadn't expected him to be there; cold comfort, to think that maybe he hadn't been set up, when he was still staring down the barrel of a gun.

Then it closed off entirely and she nodded briskly. "We are."

"Elfé, wait -" He couldn't help but try, not with the sinking feeling that if she left, he'd never get this chance again.

"If you loved her, let me go," she said softly, heading for the door, Shears trailing behind her with his gun fixed on Veld like he thought that after all this he'd actually _do something_ to her.

Her hand closed around the doorknob and turned, and they both promptly collapsed.


	36. Cracks in the Rock

Veld sucked in a breath, on his feet in an instant. "_Elf__é!_"

The door opened before he could get to his gun, which was just as well because he might have shot if he had it, and Vincent never would have let him forget it.

Judging from his unamused look, he wasn't likely to let him forget _this_ either. "I leave you alone for an _hour__…_"

"Fucking _hell,_ Valentine!" Veld blurted, staring at him. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough." He shrugged, nudging Elfé with the toe of his boot. Veld had the brief, inane thought that _at least he__'s not wearing those goddamn sabatons__. _"She takes after you."

"Now, sure," Veld said.

"I wonder how much of that was subconscious modeling," Vincent mused, which was just… too painful to contemplate. At his silence, Vincent seemed to figure that out and moved on. "So, where are we going?"

"…what?" Veld blinked at him. "What'd you even _do _to them?"

"Sleepel. Thank Benji." Vincent smiled faintly, a telltale twinkle to red eyes as he bent over them. "But it will only last so long, and shorter on her, I imagine."

Veld rubbed his face and tried to think past the inconvenient swell of emotion. "…back to headquarters, I suppose. Did you see any other AVALANCHE operatives?"

"None," Vincent said. "I think she truly meant to meet you one on one."

"But Shears trusted me about as much as you trust her," Veld finished.

"Mm." Well, that wasn't denial. Vincent examined them thoughtfully, then looked back to Veld once more. "How soon are we moving them?"

"I said nothing about moving them," Veld said. "I'm not kidnapping my daughter."

"I suppose we could kidnap _you,_" Vincent said. "See if she gets worried and goes looking. It's good motivation."

"_No one _is getting kidnapped!" Veld said.

"You can't really be intending to let her go," Vincent said, looking at him.

Veld's lips pursed. "…she's had enough done to her without her consent."

"Even if it means saving her life?" Vincent asked gently.

"Do you think I _like_ the idea?" Veld glared at him, shaking his head. "Of course I don't want her to die. That's the stupidest - it's not _about ME,_ alright? It's about her. If she wants to live and die on her own terms… I can't change that."

"So you're letting them go," he said.

"I'll sit with them until they wake but… yeah, I'm letting them go," Veld agreed. "I'll give them my number. But I can't make her accept my help. I just… I can't _force _it on her, Vin."

Vincent nodded. "Alright. I'll support your decision."

"You think I'm making a mistake," he said.

Vincent shrugged. "I think you're going to be miserable, and you are _far _more my priority than she is. It's an easy call for me to make; she matters to me because she's your daughter, no more no less. In that context, the solution is clear. For you… she's a priority in her own right that you're putting above yourself. It's a very different situation."

Veld smiled tightly. "I suppose it is."

Vincent nodded, and gestured at him to take a seat, coming to perch beside him.

Veld settled, sighing quietly. He smiled when Vincent hooked their fingers together, just a couple in a loose hold, but a reassurance all the same.

They sat in silence for a while, time ticking by unnoticed, before Elfé roused. It was clear by a hitch in her breathing, but she was too well trained to respond any more obviously than that.

"You're safe," Veld said quietly.

Her eyes slit open, blinking twice before looking to track his voice.

"Vincent got a little carried away when he saw Shears pointing a gun at me," Veld said mildly, ignoring Vincent's irreverent, unrepentant little half smile hidden in his collar but dancing in his eyes. "Seems we were both followed."

"I see," she murmured, sitting up and looking around. "…we're… still here?"

"I was hardly going to move you somewhere without you knowing," Veld said.

She gave him an odd look, but didn't comment on it. "What did he do?"

"Sleepel," Vincent said.

"…through a closed door?"

"Status magic doesn't tend to care about physical barriers," he said. "It affects you differently."

"I see," she murmured, frowning. "So you've just been sitting with us."

"It seemed like a bad idea to leave you to wake up alone and confused about what had happened," Veld said. "Besides… I had something to give you, before I left."

She looked unimpressed, but that was something of a default expression. She still accepted the slip of paper with his number on it, startling when she realized what it was.

Veld offered no explanation and she asked no questions. "Guess we'll leave you two be, then."

"I guess so," she agreed softly.

Veld was silent a moment as he rose, watching her. "…take care of yourself, Elfé."

"I'll be fine," she said automatically. "That's not what you should be worried about."

"You're my daughter," he said softly. "Whether you acknowledge that or not. I'll always worry. I'll always _care._"

"We'll see how much you care next time we meet on the opposite sides again," she said.

He smiled thinly, inclining his head. "I suppose we will."

"Let's go," Vincent said, resting his good hand on his shoulder.

Veld glanced at him briefly, but nodded. There was nothing left to be gained here today.

* * *

They left, and Veld tried desperately to tell himself that he wasn't abandoning her. Elfé was a grown woman who had made her choice, and he had to respect that. Even if the choice was ultimately that she'd literally rather die than accept his help.

Vincent walked at his side, close enough that their arms brushed slightly now and then, expression unreadable at a glance but with something dark burning in his eyes as you really _looked _at him.

He was the first one to break the silence, deep voice gentle. "We should go home."

"I've got work to do," Veld said.

"You're compromised," Vincent pointed out quietly, staring him down when he was given a sharp look for daring to put it into words. "Would you like me to go into detail?"

"Don't you _dare,_" Veld hissed, and he immediately regretted the emotional response when Vincent's brows rose. "Fine. I'll take a little time off."

Vincent didn't gloat. He just nodded and squeezed his shoulder without comment, which was somehow worse. Not patronizing, never _patronizing,_ but so damn gentle it ached. He didn't know what to do with that kind of gentle anymore.

He'd been the rock for _so long. _Taking over after Vincent was killed, after _Alex,_ after Dominic and Victor left and Anya was in Junon and there were a lot of long nights trying to figure out how the hell he was going to salvage the legacy he'd been left with while balancing a young family. He'd just barely started pulling the Turks together when the bombing had happened, and damned if those kids weren't the only reason he'd clawed himself out of the depths of depression that had threatened.

He had a solid team now, bigger than the one they'd started with, but they were still kids. _His_ kids, not even going into his efforts to help guide Reeve and Rufus and how spectacularly his inattention had backfired. He was left scraping things together again, now, living by SOLDIER's grace, but they were just kids too. He had to be the rock. He'd _always_ been the rock, ever since Vincent had left on that damned mission to Nibelheim and -

"Veld."

And Vincent was back, mako-eyed and scarred in ways no one truly human could have survived, but still _Vincent._

For the first time since the bombing, his eyes burned and his throat ached and for a moment he was genuinely afraid he might cry.

Vincent made a soft sound and pulled him close. "I'm taking you home."

Veld made a soft sound of agreement, wrapping his arms around Vincent's waist and dropping his head on his shoulder.

The world slipped away in a rush of wind and jumble of sound, and he just held on tighter until things settled and they were finally back in his apartment.

If his eyes were wet, Vincent was kind enough not to draw attention when he leaned back to look at him properly.

_Thank you, for everything,_ was trapped behind all the pain and guilt, so what came out was a flip, "you're a goddamn security menace, Valentine."

Somehow, he had a feeling Vincent knew what he'd meant anyway, though he laughed all the same and let it go. "Come on, you need coffee."

"Gods yes," he breathed. What he _wanted_ was a stiff drink, but he knew better. For now, it would be enough to wire himself up a bit, get some get-up-and-go back in the tank. He had things to do and people to deal with. The revolution wasn't going to run itself.


	37. Digging Deep

Come morning, Veld felt marginally better and certainly more capable of thinking clearly. _Calmer,_ with the turmoil of the day before tucked away to work through later. Or never, never would work. Had worked for over a decade, in fact.

Vincent was watching him, but Vincent was _always_ watching him, so that, too, could be ignored. And better to, really - to acknowledge it was to give him room to _comment,_ and even with kid gloves on the wound was too fresh to be touched. He just… couldn't. Not yet.

(Funny how these things happened, where being the _good guy_ hurt just as bad or worse than being the _bad guy _and respect meant someone dear to him was doomed to die.)

It was a welcome distraction to get a call from Reeve. "What can I do for you?"

"I've started sorting through the President's files," Reeve said, not bothering with pleasantries, which was the first clue that he meant _business._ "And I've found some odd numbers and resource allocations that don't make sense. I was hoping you and yours might be able to shed a little light on the matter."

"_Numbers_ is usually something for the Finance Department, but I'll take a look," Veld said. "It wouldn't be the first project that's been kept hush-hush."

"Yes, well, I think it's SOLDIER related, but with them in such disarray with a temporary director and Professor Rayleigh so busy trying to straighten things out with Science…" he trailed off. "I'm aware you're busy too, of course, but… perhaps a more _stable_ busy?"

Veld laughed a little. _Stable._ Right. He wouldn't be jumping at more work if he was stable.

Or maybe he would, for Reeve. He felt like he owed the man a lot, after twisting his arm into taking this position in the first place. "I'd be happy to look for you, Reeve. Do you want me to come up?"

"When you're available for a bit, if you would? Or I can just send a summary of my findings. It may be something you place immediately, after all," he said. "You know more about ShinRa's inner workings than I do by far."

"Something you're going to have to change, over time," Veld said. "But I'll take a look. Drop me an email, if you like."

"Certainly, one moment. I've put most of it into a spreadsheet," Reeve said, voice growing distracted as he worked.

Veld headed back to his desk, shooing Vincent off his perch on the corner so he could settle in and get at the computer. He didn't bother trying to move him from his new post just behind Veld's chair; for once, it was comfortable to have someone literally at his back. So long as it was _this_ someone.

The email chimed softly and he went to take a look at it. And frowned, because _that_ made absolutely no sense.

It was indeed finances, but there was a chunk of money - money he'd _assumed_ Rupert had been lining his pockets with - that was _supposedly_ being funneled into SOLDIER. But he knew for a fact that SOLDIER didn't have those kinds of funds. That was _easily_ double their budget, if not two thirds more than what he'd estimate they were actually allotted.

Why was that much money being tagged for SOLDIER, but never actually going _into_ SOLDIER?

"Still with me, Veld?" Reeve asked.

"I am, I'm just… well. I can see why you were confused," he said.

"So it's not just me, then," he said. "Given _my_ budget - well, City Planning's - I'm fairly aware of what you could _do_ with that kind of money, and SOLDIER shows no sign of it."

"You could run a small city with that kind of money," Veld muttered, frowning. "Let me come up. I want to see those documents in person."

"Of course. I'll make sure I've gathered everything I can find," Reeve said. "See you soon."

"Would you like me to come with you?" Vincent asked, once he'd hung up.

"Might as well. The more heads on this the better." Because _something_ wasn't right, and the more he thought about it, the less he liked it. This had _Science Department_ written all over it; related to SOLDIER, and full of off-the-books shit that always, inevitably, he had to clean up and _usually _bit them in the ass, at least these days. After all this, he wasn't a real big believer in _luck._ (Being fair, he hadn't been in a very long time.)

It wasn't a long trip up to the President's Office, which was just as well. He didn't need the time to brood over something he didn't have answers for - and wouldn't, in the least until he got there and dug into Rupert's files first hand.

It was very clear Reeve had made himself at home, despite not wanting the position, at least in the fact that he looked ready and able to get down to business; there was a bit of a mess of papers, but on closer inspection it was clear that there was a method to the madness - everything was sorted and marked and ready to be moved along to whatever the next step happened to be.

The man himself looked up with a tight smile when he let himself in, inclining his head. "Thanks for coming, Veld."

"I'd say it's my pleasure, but I suspect I'm not going to enjoy this," Veld said dryly. He was treated to a sympathetic smile as Reeve rolled his chair back and gestured to an open folder. "This is it?"

"Everything I've got pertaining to our mystery money sink is here, yes," Reeve said, offering the folder.

Veld nodded, accepting it to page through with a frown. "Have you read all this, then?"

"Not all in detail, there's a few pieces I'd just put in there that need a good look," Reeve said. "I'm sure there's more to be found, but I've still got a lot to go through."

"Mm. There'll be more, but it might not be _here,_" Veld said. "Whatever this is, I'm sure the roots run deep - and into Science's jurisdiction."

"Well… luckily you have Professor Rayleigh and not Professor Hojo to deal with?" Reeve said.

"Maybe. Rayleigh will certainly be more likely to be cooperative, but she's likely in the dark as well," Veld said, taking a seat to look through the file. Vincent moved behind him, peering over his shoulder.

"Do you know who sent the reports in?" Vincent asked. "Tracing it out to a project manager would _help,_ at least."

"I'd thought about that." Reeve sighed, and the tone of it caught Veld's attention. "There's a note from Heidegger."

Veld was silent a long moment while tried to work that out. Not just that Heidegger had managed to keep a secret from him, but that _Heidegger_ had been more trusted than he was.

_Heidegger._

What the hell was going on?

"Well… it merits some looking into, then," Vincent said evenly, no doubt reading the situation in his pause, if not his expression.

"Yeah," Veld muttered, scooting the chair closer to Reeve's desk. "Borrowing the corner here."

"Take as much space as you need," Reeve said. "I just appreciate the help looking it over."

"Of course." Like he could leave it alone _now._ Beyond the principle of the thing, his gut said this wasn't something he could let sit. That this was something he _needed_ to know, and maybe that was partially the want to procrastinate on dealing with current events, maybe it wasn't, but it was a valid point regardless.

Reeve nodded, with a smile that said he understood where at least part of his thought process had gone. The man had been raised in the company, and spent more than his fair share of time around Turks, he wasn't _really_ surprised. There was a reason they were friends.

_Enough stalling._

He set himself to looking through the folder, spreading things out as he finished them, sorting them in hopes that they'd make some sort of _sense. _Vincent leaned on the desk beside him, and periodically picked up a page that he wanted a closer look at, careful to put it back down precisely where Veld had put it before.

There wasn't much, but there was enough to know something was most definitely up. And enough to have a pretty good idea of how to find more information on it.

"I'm going to need to borrow that computer a moment, Reeve," Veld said.

"Oh? Certainly, anything you need," Reeve said, getting up and gesturing to his seat as well. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just sit tight a minute," Veld said, coming over and accepting the chair; this might take long enough he'd need it.

"May I ask what you're doing?" Reeve said after a moment.

It was a fair question, even if Veld wasn't inclined to answer it yet; computers weren't his _thing,_ never had been. He didn't like them, didn't like how much easier it was to trick somebody with digital than it was hard copy. But they had their place, and hell if he'd let the world pass him by.

This might, of course, need a defter touch. He wasn't above reaching out for that, either; Maur had been trained as a literal detective, and had some more experience with this sort of thing. But honestly, he was fairly sure there was nothing on _Rupert__'s _computer that he couldn't dig through himself. The man had been an entrepreneurial genius, to be sure, but he was beyond arrogant and he'd grown… _complacent._

Reeve had clearly already cracked the code to get into the computer itself, so it was only a matter of digging through his files, most notably the ones on the closed network that only ran between the company's computers. He'd always thought they were _far_ too secure…

"…he wasn't always this disorganized, surely," Vincent murmured, yet again peering over his shoulder. "Or was this deliberate?"

"He wasn't that clever," Veld muttered, frowning as he scanned through his finances - the private notes, the ones that weren't published to the board that he'd always known had to exist, but had no real care to look into. Money meant power in ShinRa, especially in Rupert's eyes. _Follow the money__… _"A_ha!__"_

"Did you find something?" Reeve asked, coming over to look from his other side. He frowned, eyeing the document in question. "'SOLDIER DG'? What's the 'DG' for?"

"Was there ever a subdivision?" Vincent asked.

Veld frowned, feeling a prickle of unease. "…during the _war,_ there was a medical subdivision called Deepground, to take care of wounded SOLDIERs - they needed special care, given their enhancements."

"Too expensive to just let them die in peace," Vincent murmured darkly.

"Probably," Veld admitted.

"But why would Deepground still be receiving funds? Especially _now,_ and that much - SOLDIER's at the lowest level of membership that it's been since it _started,__" _Reeve said.

"All good questions," Veld said. "Let's find out."


	38. The Underground City

ShinRa had been on a slippery slope a long time. Veld knew better than anyone how far they had fallen. He'd been involved in some of the worst of it, his hands bloodstained and his sins unforgiveable. He was resigned to it, by now, but even he had his limits. What had happened to Vincent, to _Felicia,_ had neatly snapped any loyalty to the company as a whole. He remained on ShinRa's payroll out of care for a rare few he wouldn't leave behind, and knowledge that _someone_ had to help keep things from falling apart. If ShinRa fell, so would the eastern world, and so long as he and his lived in it, it was in his best interest to keep that from happening.

But goddamn, they were making it hard to stay.

Deepground was a _nightmare. _He was both right and wrong about what it was; it had most definitely started as a medical ward, but with nefarious purpose. While some SOLDIERs were returned to duty, the vast majority - the ones that had, again, "_died__"_ \- were taken hostage and made a part of what his brain was currently trying to cope with by terming it 'Shadow SOLDIER.'

They were SOLDIER - _SOLDIERs,_ at least - but not a part of the department any longer. They were taken into the bowels of ShinRa, the lower levels into the domain of Science and _lower still,_ into a city below even the Slums that he'd academically known existed but hadn't realized was in _use_.

The thing with Midgar was, it had been built _over_ preexisting settlements. Most people thought that was just what remained in the Slums, and _mostly_ they were right; the Slums were the bulk of the original. But when the early reactors had been being put in, they'd had to ground them deep and build up, especially when they wanted to put Reactor 0 in. Of course the Plate had come later, quite literally overshadowing the Slums, and everyone sort of… forgot. Thought that the Slums was as rock-bottom as it felt.

But there was more. How _much_ more… he was chagrined to realize he didn't _know._ "Reeve, what do you know about the under city? Structurally."

"_Structurally?_" Reeve hesitated. "I have blueprints somewhere from Dad, but it's not something I was exactly encouraged to look into."

"Surprise surprise," Vincent murmured, leaning against the desk.

Reeve sighed, wracking his mind. "It was constructed around the same time Midgar was. It's _old,_ and it's _enormous_."

"So… they really are running a city," Vincent said.

"There's got to be an entire off the books, unaccounted for resource line going on," Reeve realized. "Money, food, supplies… _personnel._ How do you hide an entire _city_ for decades? We should have noticed people coming in and out."

"Unless no one leaves," Vincent said.

There was a moment of grim silence.

Veld took in a slow, deep breath. "Well. I think it's time Heidegger and I have a little _chat._"

* * *

Andreas Heidegger was not, contrary to common opinion, an idiot. A little overeager at times, perhaps. A little too quick at the draw. A little heavy handed. _Little_ flaws, and didn't they all have them? But he wasn't an idiot. So when the head of the Turks came for a _chat, _he knew something was up. Something he wanted no part of.

It wasn't that he and Veld were on terrible terms, exactly; they weren't _enemies,_ but they weren't _allies_ either, and they'd certainly never been friends. And Veld had that look in his eye lately, like maybe he wouldn't have minded if their mystery assassin had knocked off a few more of them. He was wound _tight,_ something eating at him in a way he hadn't seen before, and when a man like that was on edge, it was smartest to just get out of the way.

Only he couldn't, because Veld wanted to _chat._

(Veld didn't chat. He wanted information, and Heidegger was pretty sure he'd have told him anything he wanted to hear to get out of the line of fire.)

The worst part had to be that he didn't know what it was about. A little digging said Veld had just left the President's office, which might have meant he was there on Reeve's behalf. He wasn't sure that would be better than Veld coming of his own initiative, frankly. Reeve had also not exactly been an ally. In fact, he was painfully aware that he'd been _barely_ civil to him in the past, _at best._ There had been far more insults than he was comfortable looking back on, not because Reeve hadn't earned them of course, but… well. He was now the President of ShinRa Inc.

It was a problem.

Maybe he was being audited? Though, he couldn't imagine Veld would necessarily _tell him_ right away, unless Reeve requested it. Then again, Reeve had always been… well, _appeared to be_ quite straightforward, much like his father before him. He had little taste for the important political nuances, part of why Heidegger found him a poor replacement as a leader. He had a good head for money and resource management, he'd give him that, but he had no military sense, and ShinRa had always been about weapons first, metal or flesh. Hopefully, he wouldn't ruin things before Rufus could take over.

He was shaken out of his musings when his secretary announced _Director Faraman to see you, sir_, with all the cheerful obliviousness of someone who had no idea they were alone with one of the most dangerous men in Midgar. She was a mastermind at paperwork and dealing with finances, at least, but sometimes he worried.

Veld did not wait to be let in, calmly strolling through the door with the kind of smile that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It was borderline _friendly,_ until you looked at his eyes, which were nothing short of _predatory._ He was here for something, and in the kind of mood where he wouldn't have minded _coercing_ it out of him.

Not an audit, then. For the first time in his life, he wished it was. "Faraman."

"Heidegger." Veld didn't sit, which wasn't a surprise, but given Heidegger had been seated it allowed an unfair _loom_ to occur from the forced height difference. And he couldn't just stand up, that would be too awkward, if not outright confrontational, and he didn't want to _make this _confrontational, he just - "We need to talk."

Heidegger reeled in his emotions and offered an easy smile that he didn't feel. "Of course. What can I do for the head of the Turks?"

"We've been making it a project to go through the President's things, and we've come across a variety of projects. Some of which Reeve is unfamiliar with, as you can imagine," he said.

"Given he was never intended for this position, I think that's natural," Heidegger said.

"Mm. But I can't help but notice there were some things that _I_ was not privy to," Veld said. "And one might wonder what, exactly, is going on that you wouldn't tell the head of security about."

Veld's words hit a sour note, and he had no doubt it was intentional; Heidegger had prided himself on his role in the company's safety, but the truth was they handled more external matters now. Internally, things were usually in the hands of the Turks.

Which did make him wonder, for a long moment, just what they'd gotten into. Where had they gone digging and what had they found that was a secret even to Veld? Oh sure, there was the whole Kalm cover-up that Heidegger had handled, but if _that_ had been dug up Veld wouldn't be coming to chat. No, this was a professional insult, not a personal one.

What was there to find that _he_ had a part in? Hojo had held all the 'secret' cards and probably taken most of them to his grave. Which was not to say _Veld _couldn't dig them up, but again - not something _Heidegger_ should be taking the fall for.

What was left? What could he have possibly done that Veld hadn't been let in on? Well, that the _President_ had been involved in. "I'm afraid you're going to have to be a little more clear; I haven't set out to keep secrets -"

"You always did want SOLDIER for yourself, even back when Anton was in charge," Veld mused. "Pitched a fit over Lazard, too, as I recall. Public Safety just wasn't shiny enough, was it? Wasn't _strong_ enough."

"Excuse you, but if you're here just to insult my department, I've got better things to do," Heidegger said.

Veld smiled, and he realized immediately he was being baited. Thrown off kilter, to be _vulnerable_ against the last person in the world he wanted to risk that with. "Of course, my mistake. I just find it interesting that at some point, when I wasn't looking, you went and found yourself an enhanced force to control."

Heidegger's mouth went dry as realization hit, and from the glint in Veld's eyes he could tell the damned Turk knew it.

"I can see we're on the same page," he said evenly. "Good. So. Let's you and I have a sit down and you can tell me everything you've got on _Deepground._"


	39. Bringing in the Big Guns

Veld had seen a lot of ugly things. He'd _done_ a lot of ugly things, almost exclusively for ShinRa, little that it mattered. But he liked to think there were lines he'd draw. He'd _drawn_ lines, hadn't he? A recent development, sure, but it still counted.

But no matter what he'd done, he wasn't _this_ far gone.

He'd listened to Heidegger dance around the point far too long before his patience finally ran out and he started grilling him. And it became clear, then - fairly quickly - that while Heidegger knew more than bare bones detail, he wasn't exactly well versed. He knew _aspects_ of the program, to be sure, knew them well, but he wasn't the brains behind it.

That, Veld had a sinking suspicion, had been Hojo. Who was very, very dead, and therefore unavailable for questioning.

But then, he knew Hojo. The man had quite possibly been even more obsessive about documentation than he was himself (quite a feat, likely only achieved by the fact that certain things Veld dealt with could never be written down) and would undoubtedly have had documentation on all _this,_ too. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he might even find it. It was worth looking at least.

He let Maur sort through the digital, calling on whichever of his fellow Turks it felt most reasonable to, and took Vincent down with him to make an assessment of the hard copy.

There was a _lot_ of hard copy, most of it non-applicable to Deepground or anything else Veld had particular interest in. One or two things were set aside for Rayleigh's review but mostly it was like shifting through a particularly morbid slush pile. (He was not enjoying the process.)

Neither was Vincent, though his only tells were minute shifts of expression, read just because Veld knew him that well. Funny how that hadn't changed, out of all the things that had. And honestly a bit of a relief.

They were there for hours, until time started to blur together and Veld very nearly considered breaking for a meal and some rest. Naturally, that was when they made a breakthrough - a cache of information, including profiles on the top operatives of the shadow organization that was Deepground.

Saying 'it was bad' was an understatement. Veld had known it would be bad. It was just _so much worse_ than what he'd even dreamed.

He knew his history. He knew that the war with Wutai was just one of the most publicized wars, not the only one ShinRa had ever been involved in - usually on the sidelines, granted; they'd been a weapons dealer, en masse but still not the _military_ force they'd grown into. They'd played both sides of various conflicts, pushing things ruthlessly for their own benefit even at the cost of countless lives. And their first forays into the military, pre-SOLDIER as the world knew it, _had_ included some enhanced members. The legendary _Lost Force,_ the true prototype of SOLDIER, where it all began, had been scrubbed from the history books and never really been a part of public memory. But he knew. And he knew the significance of what he was looking at.

"Were you around for anything with the early SOLDIERs, Vin?" Veld asked quietly, feeling him at his shoulder.

"If by 'around' you mean literally was I in the company, yes, it looks like I was," Vincent said. "If by around you mean did I know about this _nightmare_ lurking under our feet like monsters under a child's bed, _no._ No I did not."

"So we're going in relatively blind, with _Hojo__'s_ notes as a guide." It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Oh it gets better," Vincent said. He smiled thinly at Veld's _look._ "We have to tell SOLDIER."

* * *

Veld was _not_ procrastinating. He was just taking time to make sure he knew as much as possible before bringing a bunch of hotheaded teenagers in on a delicate operation which was just _good sense._

But he knew he had to make a move, and soon. On the one hand, Deepground had existed for _decades,_ and would certainly sit for a while longer, but on the other, Heidegger was aware that he knew and his own conscience was being awfully noisy on the subject. Like he didn't have enough to deal with right now, now he had _this._

Had he wished for a distraction, in the middle of everything? Surely he knew better. Karma was more than the name of his favorite pistol.

"You're over thinking," Vincent said, startling him out of his circling thoughts.

"I don't think that's possible in a situation this complex," Veld said.

Vincent eyed him a moment, then shook his head. "_Definitely_ over thinking. Talk to me."

"I would like to point out the _irony_ of this situation," Veld said, not quite complaining but not far from. Something about having Vincent back just stripped the years away and made it _okay_ to let it go a little. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed that.

"Velllllld?" Vincent promised. "I'm waiting."

Veld sighed, running a hand back over his hair. "Not much to say. Just… trying to figure out how to best go forward with this."

"What needs done?" Vincent asked. "We can't do this solo, obviously. Reeve already knows and this is something SOLDIER _deserves_ to know about."

"They're going to be _livid,_" Veld predicted. "Absolutely _livid._"

"Of course they are, but not at us," Vincent said.

"They won't have a target," Veld said. "Rupert and Hojo are dead. Heidegger may pretend he knows the project but it's clear he's only skimmed the surface."

"Are you sure?" Vincent asked.

"I'm sure," Veld said. "Heidegger may have low standards for morality, but he's still got standards; there's no way he knows about all of this. And Scarlet may have supplied equipment, but this isn't her style either. So, no _justified_ target, which leaves them loose, and one does _not_ want SOLDIERs at loose ends."

"No, that's… inadvisable," Vincent agreed. "But if you can give them something to _do,_ something to occupy them instead of letting them stew in their emotions, it ought to help."

"I'm not sure what _we__'re_ doing yet," Veld said. "Let alone where I want to apply the SOLDIERs. My gut says this is a disaster waiting to happen if this isn't handled _just so_, and I'm not sure it's wrong."

"No, that's probably unfortunately correct." Vincent frowned thoughtfully, leaning into him a little. For a long moment, there was silence before he spoke again. "How long do you think you can put it off?"

"There's _can_ and there's _should_ and there is a very large gap between the two," Veld said.

"…how big a gap?"

Veld glanced up at him. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing, yet. I don't have a time frame," Vincent said.

"What are you _wanting_ to plan," he corrected himself, because sometimes getting answers out of Vincent meant elaborate games of pinning him down with _very precise_ wording.

Vincent side eyed him in a way that suggested he was contemplating being less than honest. At Veld's narrow-eyed stare, he merely gave a put-upon sigh.

"Vincent."

"It would _help._"

"_What_ would help?" Veld pressed. "You can't go talk to SOLDIER. That has to come from me."

"But if it comes from _me,_ then it sounds like we're trying to keep them in the loop _discreetly _\- emphasis, I cannot add enough, on _discretion._"

"SOLDIERs are not particularly _discreet,_" Veld said. "And they're especially not going to be when _this_ train wreck comes to their attention. As soon as we tell them, we need a plan in place. We need a plan in place _before_ we tell them, even, because they're going to want to act immediately and we have to be able to direct that energy or it's going to break loose and raise hell."

"Alright, so how much time are you giving them to process, then?" Vincent asked. "Work backwards."

"SOLDIERs are trained to make split-second decisions," Veld said. "But in this case, I'm hoping I can make the decision for them and they'll go along with it."

Vincent hummed thoughtfully, nodding. "And that decision is?"

"I'm going to let them come for the meeting with the board and Deepground's internal authorities - these Restrictors and the Tsviets," Veld said. "But they have to follow my lead."

"Fair enough," Vincent said. "I wish you luck."

He was going to need luck and then some, and he knew that from the moment he was facing the SOLDIERs down two hours later. It felt like nowhere near enough time, but really, he wasn't sure that it would ever feel like enough time. And the longer he waited, the worse it would be.

"Lookin' pretty grim, Director," Benji observed. "What's up?"

"Reeve and I made a recent discovery of an old project the President and Hojo had going," Veld said, watching them all go on guard at once, mako eyes piercing. A lesser man might have quailed. "Started well before I was the director, in fact."

Careful wording, _so_ careful, so very deliberate. He had to play this right and he only had one shot at it.

"Unfortunately, Turks don't _retire_ any more than SOLDIERs do, so when she passed the torch there wasn't exactly an instruction manual," Veld said.

"Yeaaaaah, feeling that," Zack muttered; he'd been in the same position - and that sympathy was part of what Veld was counting on. "So. What slipped past, and how'd you find it now?"

"We found it because Reeve ran into some funds going somewhere neither of us were familiar with," Veld said, which was the easier part. "What 'slipped past' was something called _Deepground._

"Deepground both is and is not a portion of SOLDIER, in that it's made of former-SOLDIERs," Veld said, and he could _feel_ the tension in the room rise as those bright eyes went brighter. _Mako warning lights._

He pressed on, as if it didn't unnerve him. As if he was unaware of the very real threat represented.

"Well before any of us were a part of the company, there was a precursor to SOLDIER, enhanced forces that were… semi-successful, but nothing of the quality that you'd see in our current operatives," Veld said. "Wutai was not the first time we were involved in a war, merely the most high profile because we started it. And some of those pre-SOLDIERs went missing."

"Only they didn't," Kunsel said, far too quick putting things together. "Did they?"

"They were relocated into what became the Deepground program," Veld said. "I'm still learning about it, but I don't like what I've seen, and I know none of you are going to like it any better. In the interest of being up front with you, I thought it best to bring you in on the ground floor."

"Appreciated," Kunsel said evenly. "Details?"

It was a very unquestionlike question, because there was a tone of _command_ there that Veld hadn't had directed at him by a SOLDIER since the trio had been around.

As inconvenient as it was in that _moment__…_ it gave him hope.

"I'll tell you everything I know," Veld said.


	40. Dragging Nightmares Into The Light

Saying the SOLDIERs were livid was an understatement. In fact, if they'd had any less control of themselves, Veld wouldn't have been surprised to be standing in a room of foggy blue light from pending limit breaks on sheer emotion.

But no, the four Firsts hadn't made it to their ranks without strict control of their power, and Kunsel was practically a First himself. Not, perhaps, in power and not in enhancements, but in sheer skill and even in authority - the rest _treated him_ like one. Which helped. If they continued to follow Kunsel and Zack's lead, the Turks had a _much_ better chance of containing this, to keep it from blowing up into a disaster worthy of the previous leaders of SOLDIER. Because they were _plenty_ capable, just not _inclined._

Yet.

Veld was not a praying man, but he'd seen too much not to think there was something out there somewhere, and if it cared at all for the Planet, it'd better help out on this one.

In the meantime, he was going to have to do this the old fashioned way and just… hope it worked. Which it seemed to be doing, they were livid but they were reasonable. Riiiiiight up until the mention of the microchips came out and suddenly there was a thin but undeniable ring of green around Zack Fair's eyes.

Vincent stepped up behind him, the motion drawing all five sets of too-bright eyes. "Obviously, we do not approve of this. Even the Turks have limits."

"Yeah I drew a pretty hard line before we ever got to literal slavery," Zack said, voice hard.

"What, and I cannot stress this enough, the _fuck?_" Benji demanded. "_Mind control?_ Microchips in their goddamn _brains?_ How did you not put a bullet in _Hojo's _brain before he could do this?"

"Distinct underestimation of _how low_ he would go," Veld said flatly. "Frankly I didn't think he was capable of this."

"…as much as I hate to say it, I can't say I'd have ever predicted this either," Vincent admitted. "Crimes of passion are one thing, this is…"

"Okay for one thing, the good professor was a-okay with letting Genesis and Angeal _die,_" Zack said. "Full stop. That? Is not okay. Like, Genesis and I were not on the best of terms, but _seriously._ Leaving someone to die of degradation without even _trying_ to help them? Nuh-uh. That wasn't a crime of passion that was just cruel to be cruel."

"I am _the last person_ to tell you that Jirou Hojo was a good man," Veld said. "And this is coming from _also_ not-a-good-man, so I would know. But this is still something that I have trouble believing from him. Which doesn't matter, because he's _very dead_ and can't answer for his crimes whether or not he 'meant' for things to go this way."

"We're just cleaning up the mess. Gotcha." Kunsel sighed. "So… what do we _do_ with this nightmare fuel? You do have a plan, right?"

"We need to get in there and assess in person," Veld said. "You can fake a lot in reports, and if even half of this is true the inherent power imbalance leaves the door _wide open _for a horrific amount of abuse."

"Oh, you mean besides the listed abuses?" Benji asked, with an innocent tone that had fooled precisely nobody ever.

Drew kicked his ankle. "So. How's that pan out with us?"

"I was picturing bringing your general and his primary adviser," Veld said.

"And what, the rest of us just cool our heels _waiting?_" Benji asked.

"As much as I'd like us to outnumber the board, I don't think that particular grouping is wise," Veld said.

"It'd make a statement," Benji said.

"It would. But not the one we need right now," Veld said.

"Maybe." Kunsel frowned. "Better to err on the side of caution, I suppose."

"SOLDIER is not exactly known for that," Drew said. "But yeah, you've got a point. Going in guns blazing tends to turn people off. Even if they _do_ deserve it."

"Oh they do, and don't get me wrong - there _will_ be a reckoning for this," Veld said, not surprised at the grim little smiles that statement earned. "But we have to play it careful, until we understand what we're dealing with. You don't go into battle against an unknown without a little caution."

"And these… _Restrictors_ are an unknown," Kunsel said. "So are the microchips. How thorough are they?"

"I can't see them being much use if they weren't capable of complete control," Veld said. "Whether they usually use it or not."

"As sickening as the thought is, he's probably right," Drew said. "It makes the most strategic sense; if you're going to go there, so far as to enforce _mind control,_ then you might as well go all the way."

"So we've got four puppet masters and a boatload of hyper powered puppets," Benji said. "Great. That's going to traumatize me the rest of the day."

"Okay, we are not using the word _puppet,_" Zack said. "These are real people, regardless of their… circumstances. They're more than puppets."

"Hopefully." Vincent arched a brow at the look he was given, shrugging. "We don't know that yet. People, sure, I'm not arguing that. But how… _independent _they are is questionable."

Zack looked distinctly ill at the thought.

"We need to find these things out before we can go forward in any capacity," Veld said.

"Right." Kunsel rubbed Zack's shoulder, grounding them both in touch. "Sure. Okay. So… when do we ah, do _that?_"

"I'd like to arrange to have a bit of a tour with the board and the two of you within the next few days, the sooner the better," Veld said. "But that's a hell of a thing to just drop on anyone, hence having this conversation about this first."

"We appreciate it," Kunsel said. "You've given us a lot to process, but we'll be there."

"I expected no less." Veld watched them a moment. "I do ask one thing. _For now,_ follow my lead. Please."

Kunsel was silent a moment, eyeing him, then nodded slowly. "For now. At least publicly."

"That's all I ask."

* * *

Two days later and Kunsel was regretting that. The board was together - Reeve and Veld in the real lead, though Heidegger seemed under the impression _he_ had some sort of leadership position due to inside knowledge. Scarlet, who had _also _apparently known, seemed disdainful of it all but that wasn't much of a surprise. Rufus was hard to read, but _Palmer_ was clearly all nerves.

Zack was in his First Class charcoals, not wanting to bother with a stiff formal uniform in an unfamiliar, possibly dangerous situation. Kunsel, likewise, was still in his regular uniform as well. They flanked Anya, who was unreadable save for a hint of grim displeasure in her eyes; she didn't like this any more than the rest of them.

Professor Rayleigh was the last to join them, though more likely because she was genuinely busy than because she was dragging her feet or thought it wasn't worth her time, like her predecessor had a tendency to. Kunsel had decided he liked her, honestly; she was hard working, up front, and seemed oddly ethical for a ShinRa scientist. Odd, but he'd take any advantage.

And then they were heading _down._

Really, really far down. Below ShinRa. Below the Plate. Below the _Slums._ Into a city below The City, which had once _been_ the city, and it made Kunsel's head hurt even as he tried to process it all. Because the elevator, much like the elevators up in headquarters, were clear to show off the view. And the view said to him that this was indeed _a CITY_ in its own right. Just where Midgar had blossomed up, Deepground had dug even further down.

"Holy _shit,_" Zack whispered, eyes wide.

"An underground city," Reeve breathed, placing a hand on the curved surface of the elevator as they finished their descent. "This is _amazing_."

"A technological and architectural masterpiece," Heidegger said, as if that made up for what it housed. "You'll find there's quite a lot to be impressed with here."

"That's a word for it," Veld said evenly, and his utterly _flat _tone seemed, amazingly, to have successfully sent off warning bells to the other director, who mercifully fell silent instead of further praising the place.

"So. Who are we meeting with for this _tour,_" Scarlet said, glancing aside at Heidegger.

"The Restrictor, of course!" He said. "Who better?"

"There's 'the Restrictors' and there's '_the_ Restrictor' then?" Zack checked. "Ooookay. Not really a feel-good name there. Like, not even _motivational, _that's just…"

"Zack." Kunsel touched his arm lightly, ending the flow of words before they could gain too much momentum.

Anya hummed softly, arching a brow at Veld's _look_. "The boy has a point."

"Let's just hope the rest of it's so straightforward," Veld said.

They emerged from the elevator at last, having descended to what was probably just the highest 'floor' level. Judging by what they'd seen, it went _lower._

Zack was fine with not going lower. The whole place was giving him his first brush with claustrophobia and he really could have done without it.

They were greeted by a single figure, dressed in black with a tall, spiked helmet that completely covered his face. _His_ was a guess, of course, but they would be the tallest woman Zack had ever run into if they _were _a woman - and as far as he knew, enhancements didn't play nice with women. Gillian Hewley had been the first he'd ever met, and he'd only known she'd had them in retrospect after finding out more on Project G.

_This guy_ positively _reeked_ of mako. And…

"Zack?"

Zack blinked slowly, vision tunneling on the strange figure, something in the back of his mind _twitching._

"_Zack?_"

Memory struck.

Standing on the pipe leading up to that cursed chamber. Staring into wild green eyes. Pleading for sense with the distinct knowledge in the back of his head that things had already gone horribly off the rails.

That _monster._ The _real_ monster, not Sephiroth, not Angeal not even Genesis, that - that -

"_Jenova_," Zack breathed.


	41. Ancient Grudges

There was an electric feeling in the air, a literal _buzzing_ that felt like it should have been audible.

And there was a low rumble that _was._

It took a moment for Kunsel to realize it wasn't Zack making that noise, as hyper focused as he'd gone on his soulmate and the furious look he was giving the Restrictor. No, the bassy growling was coming from behind them.

He chanced a glance back and froze.

It was all too easy to draw a parallel between red mako eyes and hellfire but really, Kunsel hadn't ever felt the need. Until he was presented with red eyes _backlit by gold,_ that looked like actual embers in his irises.

The growl began to rise in pitch, with a sort of inhuman dual tone that a single set of vocal cords shouldn't have been capable of.

"Vincent?" Veld said softly. "I'm going to need you to _focus._"

He didn't get so much as a glance, not even a flicker of recognition in the fiery gaze.

Right. Not _Vincent _then.

"Chaos," Veld said, tone far firmer. "_Look at me._"

The red was still there, but it was more a tinge than a dominant tone; Vincent was losing his grip on control, and from the increasing static in the air it was clear Chaos was going to take full advantage. To what ends, Veld didn't know, but he couldn't risk a rogue agent. Not _now._

He reached over and put a firm hand on the back of Vincent's neck, feeling him roll his shoulders but not, notably, trying to shake him off.

Across from them, the Restrictor had ceased his approach, undoubtedly sensing some sort of threat. Both Zack and Kunsel were watching out of the corners of their eyes, tense and ready to move. He couldn't help but notice they'd stepped aside, so they were side by side and had one flank each to protect. Wary of Chaos, but _also_ wary of the Restrictor, and oh this was _not_ how he'd wanted this to go.

"Bide your time, Chaos," Veld murmured, daringly stepping right up into his personal space. They hadn't talked much, they didn't have any sort of bond to promise him safety. But as always, Veld would do what he had to do to complete his mission, or die trying. He just had to trust ultimately it wouldn't come to that; Vincent was still in there, and had more willpower than most people he knew. "Let him continue. Get information first. There's always time to act _later._"

Finally, that heavy gaze shifted to him, the weight of those blazing eyes burning into him. But he held it, not looking away, fearless even in the face of an entity that made his kill count look _small._ "…you don't fear me."

"Been a long time since I was afraid of dying," Veld said dryly.

He smiled, and even though it was Vincent's _face _it was most definitely not Vincent's _smile._ This one made the hairs on the back of Veld's neck stand up, recognizing the danger even if he wasn't _afraid._ Not truly. Not, at least, the way Chaos expected or for the same reasons.

It was a hell of a thing, to say he'd stared a WEAPON of the Planet down, but Veld did, unflinching. After entirely too long, Chaos inclined his head, and abruptly the static feeling faded from the air, pressure bursting like a bubble as his eyes returned to red.

Vincent blinked blearily, as if coming out of a dream. "…sorry."

"Try to warn me next time," Veld said softly, squeezing his shoulder. "We good?"

"We're good," he agreed.

"SOLDIERs?" Might as well take inventory.

"Peachy," Kunsel said, forced lightness at odds with his grim expression. Veld couldn't blame him.

"…what was _that?"_ Heidegger hissed.

"Leftover present from Hojo." This time the unnerving, predatory smile was all Vincent. "Pray you never need to know more."

Heidegger paled, swallowing hard. Circumstances what they were, Veld had no doubt he had a better idea than most what Hojo was capable of. "…right."

"Shall we continue?" Scarlet said carefully. She feigned being unbothered well, but gave both Vincent and the SOLDIERs wide berth as she walked past.

Brave, but foolish.

Veld didn't comment; let her make her statement, it didn't matter to him. What mattered was figuring out what the hell they were dealing with that had set Zack _and _Chaos off. What was under that mask? The Jenova specimen was still in Nibelheim as far as he knew, but he'd _distinctly _heard Zack reference it as if he was looking right at it.

If that was the case, it would explain Chaos' hostility.

As far as he'd been aware, while _enhanced_, the Restrictors were still human. Or at least had certainly started out that way. Which meant that - to have such a powerful knee jerk response from not only Chaos but _Zack _\- something was going on. The question was, were they missing some files on it, had they not read something carefully enough… or had the program and subjects _evolved_ without Hojo knowing it? Given his hyper focus on Sephiroth, it could be any of the above and he didn't like those odds. He wished there was a free moment to conference with the two, but with the rest of the board there they couldn't afford it.

A quick glance from Kunsel said he had similar thoughts, even if he hadn't actually looked him in the eye. Handy thing, that visor, he'd say that much. People were so used to seeing SOLDIERs and troopers in helmets that they didn't think twice about the social implications; he'd eat his tie if _Kunsel_ hadn't thought long and hard and _deliberately_ chosen to wear it today, though.

But that only hid _Kunsel._ Zack was a relatively open book, wide eyes, dilated pupils and all. He couldn't be more obvious if he'd actually drawn his sword.

Again that feeling - something was up, something he might not be prepared to handle. Damn, but he was sick of that feeling. He just had to hope, _collectively,_ they'd be able to handle it.

In the meantime, he had to take point, never mind Reeve being the president, because nothing less would soothe Vincent and Zack - that was even a stretch, but it was the best he could do. That, and possibly leaving Heidegger as the most 'responsible' for all this, with Hojo and Rupert gone; it wasn't entirely fair, but if they needed somewhere to lay blame, some _target,_ he was prepared to make that sacrifice.

"So. You're the Restrictor," Veld said evenly, as if Vincent wasn't looming behind him and he wasn't painfully aware that the SOLDIERs were still achingly tense off to the side, hyper alert and ready to move as the situation called for it. He wasn't sure if he was grateful for that or not yet.

"I am." The voice was male, softer than expected but somehow distorted - likely from the heavy mask. It wasn't at all what he was expecting, but that seemed to be the theme of the day.

"You've been instructed to show us around the facilities," Veld said. "I assume you've also been informed who you're dealing with."

"I am aware, Director," Restrictor said. "Come with me. You will see the facilities, and meet the colored Tsviets."

"How's the ranking system of combatants work down here?" Zack asked. He was clearly trying to wind down, or at least refocus himself on the moment and Veld appreciated the effort; the kid tended to _fixate_ on things, so for him to try and step back was definitely a sign of growth. He was really trying to step it up, now that he'd been made a general. It might be a better fit than anyone had expected.

"The Restrictors are at the very top, both as combatants and as administration," Restrictor said. "Below us are the colored Tsviets, who function as officers as well as operatives, and then the untitled Tsviets who are powerful but not as skilled as the colored Tsviets. There are other officers within the troops, and other troops below the Tsviets but they are split by specialty and not by specific strength."

"What kind of specialties?" Kunsel asked.

"Swordsmen, snipers, paratroopers - we cover all bases," he said. "Deepground is to be the ultimate military force of ShinRa, and that is what we have prepared for. There is no terrain we will be unable to handle; we have learned from SOLDIER, their victories and their failures, and have moved beyond them."

It was stated as simple fact, as if he wasn't talking to two of ShinRa's finest SOLDIERs. They didn't balk at it, but Zack raised a brow in surprise. Most people wouldn't make such bold claims, and it was a very real possibility that the general was thinking he'd like to _test that._

"I understand there were very different sorts of enhancements given in Deepground, particularly to the Tsviets," Rayleigh said, drawing attention away from that with perhaps an equally important question, if one harder for most of them to follow.

The Restrictor nodded, silent a moment as they headed inside the nearest building. Metal flooring clanked under his boots, no attempt at subtlety made as he led them presumably to the Tsviets.

"That is a matter best taken up with the scientists, but I will tell you what I can," he eventually decided. "There was early work done by a ShinRa scientist on dark mako. It was shown to be potently powerful, if not as easy to work with as regular mako. I believe his name was Grimoire Valentine."

Veld heard the tiny, telling catch of breath from Vincent, knew if he'd looked he'd see widened eyes and a stricken look. He asked the question he knew Vincent couldn't bring himself to. "Was the Professor involved?"

"Mm? No, Professor Valentine was not involved, merely his research," Restrictor said. "The Deepground Project and all subprojects were handled exclusively by Professor Hojo."

Small mercies, though he knew it was still a blow to Vincent. Something they'd have to address another time, if he was even willing; his relationship with his father had been rocky at best, and then Grimoire had _died_ and discussing anything related to him was a risky venture.

Oblivious to the turmoil stirred by his words, the Restrictor continued, "Each colored Tsviet has undergone a different process, and has had a different end result. They are each unique, and capable of phenomenal abilities. Had things turned out differently, they would have stood side by side with your greatest SOLDIERs."

"How many colored Tsviets are there?" Zack asked, and from his expression Veld didn't think it was idle curiosity; this was a man making an assessment. Zack Fair never wanted to make an enemy, he was friendly as they came. But it was clear he was ready to handle things, whatever that meant.

Veld wasn't sure that was a comforting thought.

All at once, Restrictor stopped at a landing, and made an expansive sweeping gesture. "See for yourselves."


	42. The Tsviets

Six people stood below, and raised their eyes as one to regard the group up on the landing.

Two of them Veld recognized, and it made his chest go tight. It had been bad enough forcibly recruiting people when he'd thought it was for SOLDIER. To realize they'd been sent _here…_

Vincent's hand settled warmly on his shoulder and he let himself breathe. What was done was done. He could only move forward.

"Introduce us," Anya said evenly, though there was a glint of steel in icy blue eyes that said what she thought of seeing a literal _child _before them. Not that SOLDIER in general was much better, ages _fifteen and up,_ but the one girl couldn't have been over _ten._

"Argento the Silver." Restrictor waved imperiously and one of the three females stepped forward. Her uniform was unsurprisingly a steely gray, and covered her almost entirely. Unlike the others, she did not appear to possess any weapons, which he explained in short order. "She is both a weapon smith and instructor in how to use her creations. She has had a hand in training most of the other Tsviets and has created all of the weapons borne by the ones before you."

"Interesting," Anya murmured. For a moment, she met the single dark eye not covered by a patch, and they held each other's gaze.

Veld couldn't help but draw the parallel, though Anya's long hair was up and she wasn't quite as short as the Tsviet. But they both had an air of gravity, of dormant power and dignity that demanded respect. Maybe this Argento wasn't a fighter, but she was someone to be reckoned with.

She was, however, utterly _dwarfed_ by the behemoth of a man next to her, one of the two Veld recognized as he was waved forward.

"Azul the Cerulean," Restrictor said. "The newest to the rank of colored Tsviets but undoubtedly deserving of his place. You will find his strength is easily on par with your SOLDIERs."

"Holy _shit,_" Zack whispered, and was promptly pinched by his partner, rank be damned.

While inelegant… Veld couldn't blame him. The angle made it hard to be sure, but it sure _looked_ like he was somewhere over _nine literal feet_ tall. Even Sephiroth and Angeal hadn't been that tall, and Sephiroth in particular had been noteworthy.

And the man was _built for it,_ like a goddamn _tank._ Azul had been big to begin with but this… this was unreal.

The next Tsviet was _also_ one Veld recognized - one he'd wanted for the Turks, in fact, though the President had insisted on transferring her to SOLDIER. There had been an attack, however. She'd disappeared, and like so many others before her… she'd ended up here. It had to be deliberate; there was no way that was a _coincidence_. For a moment, though, Veld doubted his memory. Because he'd thought she looked entirely too familiar. Not just in the "I've seen her before a couple years ago" way but having seen her _just like that._

Maybe it was a trick of the mind, but it didn't look like she'd aged at all.

"Shelke the Transparent is capable of combat, but generally reserved for intelligence," the Restrictor continued. "Her Synaptic Net Dive ability marks her as superior to any other intelligence operatives you have reliant on technology. I dare say she would match if not surpass anything you have ever encountered."

Kunsel's head tipped slightly, considering, but surprisingly a single, quiet negative sound from Anya kept him from asking further. Later, he was sure there would be digging. But they could deal with that when it came up.

"These three are also combatants," Restrictor said. He gestured to the woman first, and maybe it was an age thing but all Veld could think was _get the girl some clothes._ That was _not_ fighting gear. Even Sephiroth had better 'armor' than that, and he'd had his chest bared. "Rosso the Crimson, one of our fiercest combatants and certainly the strongest, most skilled of our females. She is utterly ruthless and capable of meeting any objective."

Rosso made a sweeping gesture with her weapon, bowing gracefully, but there was something dangerous about her smile, hungry in a predatory way. She met and held Zack's gaze a moment and it went slyly pleased, but of course she said nothing, silent like the others.

He had a feeling that was expected.

"Feel honored that we have brought the last two out to see you, for they are usually… _contained,_" Restrictor said. "Nero the Sable and Weiss the Immaculate. Nero in particular is of note - the only one to survive from the particular batch of dark mako treatments. His ability with shadows is… impressive, meriting him the rank of Tsviet. However, while he is indeed a force to be reckoned with, he is too dangerous to mingle with the rest of the troops."

"But not too dangerous to bring to see us?" Scarlet observed.

There was the distinct feeling of a grim smile on the Restrictor's hidden face, from tone alone. "He is a colored Tsviet. He has earned a coveted rank. But he still cannot go against my will."

Veld wouldn't swear to it but he was pretty sure that Zack's singsonged mutter was 'w_e are living in a dystopia' _which was painfully accurate for the moment. This was the sort of crazy, wildly unethical bullshit you read in _novels,_ not… saw at work.

Only this was ShinRa, and Hojo had already proven he was capable of deeply depraved things when push came to shove. Veld wasn't the sort of blind optimist who would refuse to see what was right in front of him.

And what was right in front of him was a too tall, too thin _kid_ in a _strait jacket _and a _muzzle. _He could feel his blood pressure rise and closed his eyes a moment to process.

"You've got him pretty locked up, for all that confidence," Zack observed, something tight and dark in his tone. "Guess a little insurance doesn't hurt, huh?"

"With ordinary magic, you can strip away the mage's materia and be done with it entirely," Restrictor said. "Nero has no such weaknesses. All he needs is the use of his hands to use his shadows. For your sake, I would avoid a demonstration."

"Delightful," Kunsel muttered. "And the last one?"

"Weiss the Immaculate, Nero's brother," Restrictor said. "The strongest of the Tsviets, _also_ restrained for your safety."

"But he can't go against _you_ either, can he?" Kunsel said. It was clear something had occurred to him, something that he didn't like. Veld wondered just _which_ point that had been, and chalked it up for 'asking later' because Weiss was staring just past his shoulder at Vincent and he didn't _like_ that look.

He wouldn't be the first person to stare Vincent Valentine down in a cocky manner, and wouldn't be the last, but he might just be the first to back it up with something substantial. Maybe.

"No," the Restrictor said after far too long a pause for comfort. "He cannot go against me."

The implication that he either couldn't or wouldn't stop him from going against others wasn't lost on anyone.

"If he's smart, he won't try heading against unknowns, either," Zack said, with an uncharacteristic _edge_ that made Veld look at him at once. That thin edging of green was still ringing his eyes, which - he _hoped_ \- was adrenaline. Most likely. The thing with mako eyes, they were _telling_. The color told you a lot about the enhancement process, and a _change_ in color was never anything good. Especially from blue to green. From blue to green was like a stoplight going from green to _red;_ whatever the cause, it damn well _better _stop, or there was going to be an 'accident.'

Kunsel placed a hand on Zack's shoulder, either reassurance or just trying to wind him down before things escalated like they so easily could. Whichever didn't matter, so long as he _calmed down._ Because Zack still looked ready to pick a fight.

Below them, Weiss looked an awful lot like he might _like_ that, and Veld already knew he wanted _no part _of that.

"So, we're not seeing any demonstrations of their abilities, then?" Scarlet said, arching a brow. "Just taking your word at how _amazing_ your little soldiers are?"

Restrictor glanced at her. "I had not expected you so eager to see someone die, Director."

"So they're not capable of nonlethal force?" Kunsel hummed, looking down at the group below. "Here I thought SOLDIER was the hammer."

"SOLDIER _is_ the hammer," Zack said. "You can do detail work with the right kind. Deepground is a _wrecking ball._"

"They are capable of meeting any objective, including ones involving use of nonlethal force," Restrictor said, ignoring Zack's comment. "However, they are trained in extreme circumstances to create such versatility and strength. Only the strongest survive here."

"Literally," Zack muttered, and shrugged off Kunsel's hand on his shoulder, going to the edge of the platform and looking down over the Tsviets.

"He's feeling them out," Vincent murmured, just a breath by Veld's ear, but clear enough to pick up on it and the implications; Zack was sizing the Tsviets up, just like they were sizing _him_ up. Like they were all preparing for things to go sideways in a way that Veld desperately hoped they didn't.

Veld took a gamble and stepped up beside Zack, lightly touching his arm to get his attention. After a long moment, those too-bright eyes met his, holding them a long moment. There was a deep, welling fury there; another kid-general of SOLDIER presented with ShinRa's twisted guts, but this time… _this_ general was ready to put his foot down. Zack Fair would not stand by like Sephiroth had for so long. He would not break himself to fit into a mold, and he wasn't going to watch anyone else either.

But now _wasn't the time_ to pick that fight, and Veld tried to convey it with his gaze alone.

From the grim, determined set of Zack's mouth, he wasn't sure the message had been received correctly. He clapped Veld on the shoulder, and turned to the Restrictor with a painfully sharp, mirthless version of his usual smile. Veld knew immediately he wasn't going to like anything that followed it.

"Any idiot can kill someone. A _child_ can kill someone. A determined _cat_ can kill someone. Taking someone out without harming them, let alone killing them, takes skill," Zack said. "Show me they've got the _skill_ to stand beside SOLDIER."

Restrictor looked at him, silent a long moment. "And who are you, SOLDIER?"

"I'm General Zack Fair, SOLDIER First Class," Zack informed him. "And if you want to call yourselves SOLDIER someday, you're going to need to earn it my way."

Bold, bold words. Very much impulsive, throwing a gauntlet down like that.

Why did he have the feeling he wasn't talking to the Restrictor at all?


	43. Something Wrong

With the mask in the way, the Restrictor's expression was unreadable. With the cloak thing draped over him, his body language was equally hard to discern, though you could say at least that there was no visible change. Kunsel wasn't sure that was reassuring.

The look in Zack's eyes _definitely_ wasn't reassuring. Because Zack? Zack _didn't_ green. Some SOLDIERs did - greening was considered a fairly natural thing; when your adrenaline spiked enough, or you got into a heightened emotional state, the mako enhancements would react and create a green ring around the outside of the iris, which of course was where the name came from. There was probably an official term for it but hell if anyone had bothered to say where Kunsel could hear, and _greening_ was simple enough to explain even to the newest cadets.

Like anything dealing with the… _interesting_ biology that was SOLDIER, there was a sliding scale of who did it more than others. Some people had predispositions, either because of their mako levels or their personality. But Zack had never really been one to. Maybe he had once or twice, but the instances were few and far between, and usually just a tinting. This though? This was a full on solid green ring, mako green against brilliant blue eyes. Zack was greening.

And Zack was greening because he was absolutely _furious_ about all this. Which was, pun unintended, fair enough. But by the time _Zack_ was ready to bust heads you knew the situation was serious.

His gaze drifted back down to the group below them, and he held back a shudder. There was _so much_ _wrong _with this picture. Not just Nero's straitjacket and muzzle, either. No, it was something else. Something _deeper,_ ingrained into these kids. Written into their very DNA.

It was _how big_ Azul was, the oddly pointed ears and the literally glowing marks - tattoos? Gods he hoped those were tattoos - on his face. It was in how young Shelke looked, until you looked into her eyes, and how something… something wasn't quite right there, even at this distance, it was the look of an adult. A _calculating _adult. And speaking of calculating, _Rosso._ She was worth an invocation or two herself just for the way she'd looked at them. Because he hadn't missed the pattern her eyes moved in. _Sephiroth_ had done that when assessing enemies - a quick 'are the weak spots that should be there on a human actually there on this human' assessment that he really felt was _not _merited at this point. Was that as reflexive as it looked, or was she hoping for something else? He was almost afraid to ask.

Yet all that was nothing - _nothing_ \- next to Nero and Weiss.

Surprisingly, the straitjacket and muzzle weren't what unnerved Kunsel there. It wasn't great, sure. In fact if he let himself think about it, it was absolutely horrifying. (He wasn't letting himself think about it.) But no, it was the whole… _feeling._ Kunsel wasn't the magic powerhouse Benji was or Genesis had been, nowhere _near,_ but enhanced senses came with some weird stuff even on the ground floor and he was a step or two above that.

And those senses were saying _something was very wrong here_.

Nero was alive. Realistically, he _had to be_ alive, because he was standing there blinking up at them and he'd stepped forward when he'd been introduced. But he didn't _feel_ alive. In fact, he didn't feel _anything._ Kunsel knew, staring at him, how it felt to stare into the void and have the void stare back at you.

Freaking _unreal._

He could feel goosebumps on his arms, and the hair raise on the back of his neck. Something was very wrong here, he just… he _felt wrong,_ and he knew someone like Benji could articulate it but all he could figure it was whatever had done his enhancements. That 'dark mako' - whatever the hell _that_ was, clearly he was going to have to do some digging when they got back - made him feel like… nothing. But not quite nothing, because there was something there, cold and slick and hard to grasp. _Uncomfortable._

He looked away, and ended up looking at Weiss, and wondered, briefly if Hojo just had a _thing _for pale haired powerhouses or if that was a coincidence. Because he _radiated_ power, in a way that was definitely, _distinctly _reminiscent of Sephiroth. Which had to be all kinds of _nope_ for Zack, definitely not helping the situation in the _slightest._

He wasn't like Nero. Nero was a void. Nero was staring into a black hole and getting the sinking feeling that you were about to fall in and never come out. Weiss… Weiss was staring into the heart of a star about to go supernova and wondering if you had time to get out of the way. He didn't _quite_ look "unhinged" so much as he looked like he'd been restrained _so long, _been pulling at those chains so long, that the moment they were broken there would be unstoppable forward momentum and he'd be too relieved to care much about who he mowed down in the process.

Kunsel looked away again, before he could meet Weiss' eyes. He wasn't ready for that, he knew that _instinctively._ Besides… someone had to keep an eye on Zack, who was still looking a little off himself. Anger could do things to your senses, and to your _common sense,_ and he was so far past "angry" that Kunsel really had no idea where he'd landed. _'Earn it my way'? _What did that even _mean?_

The Restrictor apparently had a similar thought. His voice was even, almost bland, but perhaps just a _touch_ curious. "And how does one _earn _being SOLDIER? What tests will you put them through?"

Zack's smile gained a sharp edge. "Buddy, I never said I was talking about them. Where I'm from, leaders worth the name lead by example."

There was a beat of incredulous silence. "…you challenge my leadership, _General?_"

Zack shrugged with that same smile. "I mean, _my_ people follow me cause they _like me._"

"They follow you because you are in a place of authority," the Restrictor said. "They may _happen to _like you."

"Still a choice," Zack said. "I know what happens when SOLDIERs decide they're done."

Kunsel tensed, ready to reach out and put a hand on Zack's shoulder again, but waiting. Watching. Maybe praying, a little, to whoever listened to SOLDIERs. If someone still listened to SOLDIERs.

The Restrictor was silent, apparently just staring at him, nonplussed, and Zack continued with forced lightness. "I _also_ know what happens down here if somebody tried that. And let me tell you, my friend, that's not gonna fly much longer."

"And what do you intend to do about that?" he asked.

"Depends how much you'll cooperate," Zack said, shrugging. "I'm not looking for a fight. But I'm ready to bring it if that's what I have to do to make things right."

"Fair…" Veld said softly.

"_I_ am the _General of SOLDIER,_" Zack said firmly, never taking his eyes off the Restrictor, let alone acknowledging Veld's warning. "Deepground is a part of that, _right?_"

"Technically, Deepground is under my jurisdiction," Heidegger said.

"Fucking fantastic job there," Zack said, and Kunsel had the brief, inane thought that Benji would be _so proud_.

His next thought was a very loud _Zack no,_ but alas _their_ bond was not telepathic.

"I'll be taking that over then, since you've screwed over hundreds of people with sheer incompetence," Zack said. He looked to the side when Heidegger took a breath to argue, mako eyes bright and dangerously closer to a greeny-teal than their usual cheery blue.

For a long moment, no one said anything. Kunsel didn't dare look away from Zack, though he did gently place a hand on his back, trying to ground him in the midst of his fury. He got it, of course he did. He was angry too. But not like that. Zack was… Zack was on the road to places Kunsel didn't want to see him go. Dangerous places where Bad Things Happened even at the hands of good people.

And the worst part is he wasn't sure why. Not 'why he was angry at all,' that part made sense, but _this_… this wasn't _like him._ It felt wrong, on an instinctive level Kunsel couldn't explain. It just wasn't Zack. Zack didn't do this kind of anger, not this fast.

Zack's gaze had drifted back to the Restrictor, and Kunsel had a prickly feeling of foreboding. That sense of _wrong_ heightened almost painfully, jangling against his senses in a message he couldn't make out beyond _warning! danger!_ which was painfully obvious.

"Zack?" He tried again, reaching out and touching his arm, muscle so tight it had to be painful. "Hey, let's just… finish the tour. We can worry about the details later, alright?"

Zack made a low, displeased sound, but he nodded assent and that was the important part. "We're talking about this later, _Director._"

Heidegger forced a tense smile and inclined his head, waving towards the Restrictor. "Shall we continue, then?"

"_Let's._"


	44. Insane Mundane

With a swift gesture, the Tsviets were dismissed, though where they were dismissed _to,_ the Restrictor didn't say. Instead, he began the tour.

What struck Kunsel, more than anything, was how _mundane_ it was. There was a single visible reactor as they went further - the big 00 giving away that _this_ was Reactor Zero - and around it, buildings as cramped as the most packed areas of the Slums. He only got a brief glimpse, but it was enough to get a sense of size, and a sense that this really was some sort of functioning subterranean _city_.

How many people were down here? How many people were in the military machine, and how many _more_ people did it take to sustain it? He didn't have a head for those kinds of numbers, but a glance said that Reeve was calculating. As the former head of City Planning, now the President of ShinRa itself, if _anyone_ could do those kinds of numbers in their head it was Reeve.

From the grim set of his mouth, he didn't like them. Kunsel wasn't sure he wanted to ask.

They went down a winding maze of halls - not enough to completely disorient the SOLDIERs, probably not the Turks, but definitely enough that if they had to make it out in a hurry most of the civilians would probably need to be physically grabbed and guided.

(Or left behind. He still wasn't feeling too charitable towards Heidegger_._)

When they emerged from the maze, it was to a broad viewing balcony inside what felt more like a stadium than a training room. And yet, that's _exactly_ what they were looking at - people in training, a good hundred or so at a quick estimate, going at each other like a dozen dozens of sparring matches overseen by prowling officers. Briefly, he wondered if they had any kind of control themselves or if that was purely the Restrictors. There were only four of them, it would make sense if the others had _some_ means of control. If you were going to do _that_ anyway.

He refocused on the matches, looking them over, and one thing jumped out above the rest, demanding his attention - they were _brutal._

Sparring was not play fighting, and Kunsel would be the last person to say it was. But it _was_ practicing, practicing for much harsher fights in a _safe environment_ where you could learn how to do things before going out into a world that might gut you for your ignorance. These guys looked absolutely ready to do the gutting. Far from stopping at first blood, it looked like that was when things really got _started._

Which, he'd admit, was not to say that SOLDIER stopped at bloodshed. He'd walked away from spars bloody and bruised. But he'd _walked away._ Here? He had the _distinct _feeling there were times people didn't. And by the time you got to that point, where _so many_ fights ended like that, it wasn't just something that 'happened' and got swept under the rug. This was _encouraged._

A quick glance showed Zack had noticed the same thing, hands in fists at his sides and bright eyes still far too bright for comfort. This was not helping his urge to pick a fight of his own.

"These are our soldiers," the Restrictor said. "Unspecialized and ranking well below even the colorless Tsviets, they still remain highly capable and well trained operatives, ready to serve."

"Is there a particular _reason_ they're fighting like that?" Zack asked, inclining his head. When he was greeted with silence, he clarified bluntly. "I've been in SOLDIER since I was fourteen. I know what it looks like when you'd be okay with killing your opponent. That's not how I _spar._"

"Unlike SOLDIER, Deepground is not lacking for operatives," he said mildly. "Therefore, it is vital that only the best remain in the program."

And of course, no one in this company _retired,_ let alone Deepground which did not exactly practice _voluntary enrollment._

"So you just kill off the rest," Zack said flatly.

"If they don't survive the training, that is not my concern," the Restrictor said. "I am interested in operatives who can do the jobs they are asked. We must be ready to take our place when the time comes."

"I think we have very different ideas about where people like you belong," Zack said.

"_Fair,_" Anya said, soft but brooking no argument.

Zack straightened a bit, though his full height still didn't match the Restrictor, and flashed a 'smile' that was a lot of teeth and unspoken warnings. At some point, the puppy had become a full grown wolf, and he looked about ready to rip someone's throat out.

Kunsel put a hand on his arm anyway, the muscles under his hand tight and stronger than mythril. He knew he wouldn't stand a chance of moving him if he didn't want it, those days were _long_ gone even before Hojo's last twisted hurrah. But he had to make the gesture. Had to make the effort to reel Zack in from the very dark place he was heading. "Hey…"

Zack didn't shake him off and he counted it a win, if just barely.

"Let's continue, shall we?" Anya said, light despite the tension running through her. She knew as well as he did that they were walking a very fine line. And while she may or may not be as first-person aware of what that sort of thing would look like, as a _Turk_ she had to have more than the average awareness of where this _could_ go. And what _might_ happen was almost scary enough without knowing for sure what would.

"Perhaps it would suit you better to see the educational facilities," the Restrictor suggested.

"Let's do that," Reeve agreed.

The Restrictor nodded and led them on. This time, the path was much longer, and even more winding - a deliberate attempt to disorient? Surely they weren't _actually_ this poorly laid out, he could see Reeve's metaphorical side eye from here and didn't blame him in the slightest, it was -

It was _huge._

Kunsel didn't break stride, because Kunsel was used to things like 'appearances' and 'bluffs' but Zack had a little brain stutter that made him pause as they came out to another observation deck - this one, shielded behind what he would assume would be some kind of double sided mirror or something of the sort, allowing them to see out but no one who happened to look _up_ to see in.

_Not_, he mused, _that anyone would_.

Below them stretched classroom after packed classroom that could either be viewed at a glance from the deck or up close through a bank of monitors. Looking _down, _it was clear that the students in the lecture halls wouldn't be looking up to see - they'd have to look _back,_ and no one in Deepground was going to be turning away from their superior's instruction to just take a gander around. They were likely aware of the structure, given they had to walk to get around and presumably looked up at _some point,_ but it was not something to be stared at. Not something to be looked too closely at, or questioned. And wasn't that Deepground operations in a nutshell?

"So, you guys keep an eye on the classes from here?" Zack said, more casual than he felt and approaching the banks of monitors to get a better look. From above, you saw the backs of a lot of heads. From the monitors, though, the camera feed was _behind_ the instructors, giving a view of the students. "I assume they're _also_ split by ability and not by age? Via some intense testing?"

"They are," the Restrictor confirmed.

Zack hummed, scanning the bank of monitors thoughtfully.

He froze, when his eyes locked on one of the lower ones. His voice was casual, _far _too casual for the situation, and the words had immediate, unpleasant implications no one could miss. "Just how young do you _start_ these kids?"

There was a moment's pause, a beat of consideration. Maybe he'd heard the tension in Zack's voice, and was considering just how to approach the topic. In the end, his answer was a crisp, "Nine."

"_Nine._" The word wasn't even incredulous - he'd suspected something like that, from what he'd seen - it was pure fury. _How dare they?_ Where was the line? _Was_ there a line? "How old is the youngest person down here?"

"You can't expect he would know -" Heidegger began.

"He'll know," Zack said, soft and sure and _dangerous_. "They start _training_ at nine, but you're not out recruiting nine year olds. You're not stealing _nine year olds_ from SOLDIER or the army. So where are they coming from? Where are you getting all these people? Even the older operatives, _where are they coming from? _There aren't enough disappearances to match. SOLDIER accounts for some of it - _older_ people, though, not… not _kids. _Most of your Tsviets looked younger than me, and they had to have been here for a while before reaching that rank."

There was silence as they all processed his words. The _implications._

"Zack…" Kunsel trailed off. What did you even say? He wasn't sure he wanted anyone to say _anything._ There was no making this better, but he was sure it could get worse.

"I'll tell you where they're coming from," Zack said, and his voice was pitched low, threatening a growl. "You are _breeding them._ Aren't you?"

Dead silence.

Zack _moved,_ getting back up in the Restrictor's personal space, eyes far, far too bright. "_Answer me._"

The Restrictor held up a hand, and for a moment Kunsel felt something like static skittering across his senses. "Do not challenge me."

Whatever he was trying was about to backfire grand royal, because Zack shuddered and grabbed his wrist. The snarl that came from him and the way it distorted his usually smiling face made Kunsel break out in chills. "I am not one of your _Tsviets._ You can't _control me._ And I don't fucking appreciate you _trying.__"_


	45. Taking a Step Back

For a moment, no one moved. And in that moment, Kunsel knew it had to be him or things were going to go downhill _fast._ Faster than they were already heading.

"Okay, _okay_, let's not." He came over to Zack's side, and boldly placed a hand on his arm. "Seriously, Zack. Let's not. Not now. That's not what we're here for."

Zack took in a deep breath and let it out in a huff like a Dual Horn about to charge, bright eyes locked on the Restrictor's mask. "I'm not letting this go."

"I'm not asking you to, I'm just asking you not to do this _right now,_" Kunsel said. "We can pick fights later, alright? There's all the time in the world to shake things up. Just… not now. _Breathe._"

Zack's nostrils flared with another short, angry huff, those bright, bright eyes boring into the faceless mask of the Restrictor, and Kunsel prayed to whoever listened to SOLDIERs - _please, please let this be enough._ Because if it wasn't, he didn't know what else to _do._ Could Valentine restrain him?

_Would he?_

Then Zack took a slow, deep breath and rolled his shoulders. He released the Restrictor's wrist, lip curled in a silent snarl, and stepped back.

_Thank the gods._

"I think, perhaps, we should call it a day," Anya said carefully, which was the smartest idea Kunsel had heard all day. "And come back fresh later."

"Yesplease," Palmer blurted, shrinking back when a few eyes went his way.

Reeve cleared his throat to draw attention. "I think, perhaps, Director Torvik has a fair point. There's much to discuss and for all of us to consider before we return. Restrictor… thank you for your time, but I believe we're ready to return."

"Very well." He seemed entirely unaffected by all of this, which no doubt the helmet helped but… if he truly wasn't bothered in the _slightest,_ Kunsel had to wonder again what they were dealing with.

He didn't like the answers he was coming up with off the top of his head.

They went back in solemn silence, all of them lost to their own thoughts, and loaded into the elevator to go. It was not lost on Kunsel that Zack insisted on seeing the rest of them get in first - or that Valentine managed to just _happen_ to be between Veld and Anya and the Restrictor.

As they ascended, Reeve spoke quietly, "I think, perhaps, we all need to take time to process that before discussing things."

_And calm down,_ Kunsel was sure he'd have added if he was any less tactful. Or even just more direct. He couldn't blame him for tiptoeing around it, though. He'd handle Zack himself. Safer for everyone.

They got about half way back up and Zack let out a sudden breath, a hand going to his head. Kunsel was at his side already, and turned to face him in time to watch the green around his eyes fading to blue. "…Zack?"

There was not the relief in his gaze that there ought to have been. No, Zack's eyes widened, _horrified _as he stared off at nothing.

Kunsel shoved his faceplate up, took Zack's face in his hands and _made him_ look at him. "_Babe._"

It took entirely too long for him to register, but finally - _finally_ \- those familiar eyes locked on his, some of the wild panic dying down as he forced himself to focus and assess whatever it was that had occurred. "…he was _in my head._"

"_What?_"

"I thought he was just _trying _but that bastard was _in my head._" For a moment, Zack looked in legitimate danger of being ill.

"Hoo boy. Okay. _Breathe,__" _Kunsel said gently. "He's not now?"

"No… no, the distance must have broken the connection." Zack shook his head, then looked sharply at Rayleigh. "_I_ don't have a chip… do I?"

"No, I didn't find any such thing," she said, thinking it over critically. "What you _do_ have is a higher than average concentration of Jenova cells."

"And… the Restrictor does, too?" Zack said. "Was that even _him_ doing it? Or is _he_ the puppet here?"

"I think we're going to have to do some tests," Rayleigh said. "Am I to assume neither of the other enhanced felt anything?"

"No, I'm good," Kunsel said.

Vincent shook his head as well. "He wasn't in my head. He must have some sense of self preservation."

Veld snorted, amused until he caught the gleam of gold in Vincent's eye and was reminded of _what else_ was in Vincent's head.

Maybe he was being serious.

"We'll need to have a little talk about what you all experienced down there," Veld said. "But I don't know that the entire board is necessary for that discussion."

"I would appreciate being kept informed," Reeve said.

"Me too," Rufus said at once. "We ought to know what we're dealing with."

"I, for one, think we _ought _to know what's going on. All of us," Heidegger said. "But if the rest of them are too _scared_ I'll do it myself."

"I've never cared for the Deepground project," Scarlet said. "So long as it's under control, I can't say I'm terribly concerned with _how_ you handle it."

"Then you and Palmer will be dismissed from further meetings regarding the situation," Rufus said, when it was clear Reeve was lost in thought. "How much time do we need to get things together enough to safely have this discussion, then? Fair?"

"I… might need a minute," Zack admitted slowly.

"I would appreciate the chance to have a look at the General before we proceed, and do a little research myself," Rayleigh said. "Just so we can have a better idea of what we may be dealing with."

"We were caught off guard today," Reeve said softly. "We can't have that happen again. Not with _them._"

"Agreed," Veld said. "And it won't."

Vincent gave him a familiar look - _you don__'t know that._

Veld just gave him a hard smile that promised _I__'ll make it that way._

* * *

Initially, Rayleigh was only going to talk with the SOLDIERs, but both Veld and Vincent were willing to bite back their feelings about medical if it meant getting the details immediately as they were uncovered.

Zack was understandably tense, and had no shame in gripping Kunsel's hand the whole time he was being examined. If it meant he was going to cooperate, Rayleigh wouldn't have protested him outright pulling his soulmate onto his lap to hold onto.

There was every reason for tensions to be running high, and she'd be the last person to tell him that _internalizing_ it would be the better way to go. No, she was relieved he was willing to react at all, lest all that pressure build up to too much.

They'd all seen what happened when a SOLDIER broke under pressure.

"So, there are no signs that you have now, or have ever had, any sort of microchip," Rayleigh said. "Let alone the sort in place in the Deepground operatives."

Zack made a tight sound of relief, but didn't relax. "I'm hearing a but."

Rayleigh inclined her head. "_But,_ your Jenova cells are more active than they've been since you first got here. Can you tell me what, exactly, you experienced?"

Zack closed his eyes with a quiet breath,_ thinking_. "It started way before the elevator. Before he even made it obvious. He may not have been _controlling_ me, but he was _influencing _me."

"…your temper…" Kunsel said softly.

"Maybe not on purpose, I can't see any _point_ to making me angry, but yeah." Zack nodded. "I don't… I'm not saying I've never gotten mad, or gotten mad _and_ impulsive. I have - you know I have. But not that fast. I'm usually better at keeping my head in that kind of situation."

"Yeah, I wondered about that," Kunsel said. "I just never _dreamed__…_"

"No, me neither. If I'd known he could influence me, we'd have had more backup," Zack said.

"What kind of backup?" Veld asked. "Seems to me that another First might make things worse."

"Yeah, maybe." Zack sighed, running a hand back through his hair and squeezing Kunsel's hand. "Did you feel anything?"

"Static," Kunsel said. "There was something there, but not enough of whatever it was to get to me."

"No impulses, no heightened emotions, nothing?" Zack looked to Vincent as Kunsel shook his head. "And you?"

"No, but I don't have _any_ Jenova cells," he pointed out. "Any reaction I had was directly related to Chaos' grudge against Jenova."

"As a WEAPON of the Planet, I can't really say I'm _surprised,_" Veld said. "So. If it's Jenova cells we need a different kind of backup than the enhanced. Or at least, not Jenova-enhanced."

"Which is going to _suck_ if that comes down to a fight," Zack said. "I mean, no offense, but there's a _reason _SOLDIER was created. We fill a very valuable niche."

"You do. But we're not exactly helpless as soon as someone's pumped with a mako cocktail, either," Veld said.

Zack held his hands up. "I'd never even _think_ that_._ I'm just saying, if everybody's favorite meat shields are out of the fight, that's a big disadvantage."

"Less of one, if we're not going in expecting that backup to be there," Veld said. "If a fight had broken out today… well. Things would look different than if a fight breaks out next time we're down there."

"Do you think it's going to come to that?" Kunsel asked.

"I don't know. I certainly hope not." Veld frowned thoughtfully. "But, if it _is__…_ we'll be ready."

Zack watched him a moment. "…you sound like you have a plan."

Veld smiled faintly. "Might have some ideas. For now, we'll all just catch our breath and spend some quality downtime thinking."

"That is not what I would qualify as 'quality downtime' Director," Rayleigh said mildly. "But I agreed to at least making sure your _bodies_ relax. Especially you, Zack."

"I'll make sure we both calm down," Kunsel said. "Was there anything else you picked up on, Professor?"

"Nothing we didn't suspect. The Jenova cells are all very active, but at the moment they don't appear to have _done_ anything." She sighed. "Unfortunately, despite my work on the SOLDIER program, I was not involved in the intricacies involving Jenova and am playing a _lot_ of catch up, educating myself as we go."

"Right. Well, we appreciate anything you _can_ tell us," Kunsel said.

"I'll do some more digging… I think I know a few areas in particular that ought to help." She smiled tightly. "I'll do everything I can, of course."

"And in the meantime, we'll try not to make things more complicated." Kunsel patted Zack's shoulder. "So. Afternoon off?"

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Take tomorrow, too," Veld said. "Rest up while you can."

"Ominous." Zack gave him a thumbs up. "You got it."


	46. A Day Off

Veld left the SOLDIERs to hopefully do as he'd suggested and take the day, and Rayleigh to continue her research, more than happy to leave medical behind and get back to the safety of his own territory. Vincent, as always these days, was at his back.

"I don't suppose _you_ intend to take time off," Vincent mused.

Veld snorted, smiling at Vincent's little chuckle. "Too much to do to keep this from going sideways and you know it. You were groomed for this job; you know better."

"I find myself less concerned with the duties of the Director and more concerned with the mental health of the man," Vincent murmured, deep voice pitched low enough that it wouldn't carry - the only reason he wasn't given a _look_ for the implications.

"I'm fine," Veld said. He could feel the weight of Vincent's eyes on him, could practically _see_ the arched brow without bothering to look. "Don't you give me that look."

"It's a lot of stress," Vincent said mildly.

"I've been operating under stress so long I wouldn't recognize myself without it," he drawled, swiping his keycard for access to the Turk offices.

The bullpen was fairly full, and they all looked up when he entered, some more obviously than others. They knew what he'd gone to do, but not how it had gone, and he couldn't blame them for the low key tension. Out of the corner of his eye, as he continued in, he saw Reno knock his knuckles on the door to Tseng's office, doubtlessly relaying that they'd returned.

He inclined his head towards his office, meeting Reno's eyes, and got a nod. He pitched his voice to carry, still walking. "Maur, Rude, this way. Reno, grab Tseng if you would."

"You got it, Chief," Reno said, this time more obviously sticking his head into Tseng's office.

Veld vanished into his own, Vincent behind him, leaving the door open for the other Turks to trail in.

Reno was the last, closing the door behind himself and leaning against the wall beside it. Reflexively, Rude flanked the other side and Veld smiled a bit. The best team since him and Valentine, Anya had called them. She wasn't wrong.

He looked at the four of them a moment, then addressed Maur. "I'm going to have to ask you to dig up anything you can on connections between the Restrictors and Jenova."

Maur nodded thoughtfully. "Consider it done."

"Things nearly got ugly down there, and could again if we don't know what we're dealing with," Veld said. "As it stands, the Firsts may not be able to deal with the Restrictors, possibly not with Deepground in general."

There was a long moment of grim silence as the group processed this, and the implications.

"More Jenova bullshit?" Reno guessed.

Veld's lips twitched faintly, but he nodded.

"Do you think that's related to the 'Reunion Theory' things Hojo was working on with Zack and Cloud?" Maur asked.

Veld paused, considering it. In the midst of all this mess he'd almost forgotten that aspect of the little _project_ they'd interrupted. "…that is a very good point. I'll run it by Rayleigh and see what she can find."

"Just like Professor Batshit to haunt us from beyond the grave," Reno said darkly. "What d'you need the rest of us do, Chief?"

"I'd like someone to speak with Aerith," Veld decided. "See if she picked up on anything, if she knows anything in general, if there's anything she can pick up with Zack - _anything_ we can run with. And we will ideally sit someone on Zack as well."

"Balto, Cissnei, or one of us?" Tseng asked.

"I could do it, yo," Reno said. "We get on well enough. Save them for when he needs warm fuzzies; we can talk some business, too. See where SOLDIER's plans are, if they're out of the Deepground business. Can't see him willin' to let go entirely, y'know?"

"No, that doesn't fit his profile," Veld agreed; Zack Fair had never been one to drop a mission. _Reinterpret,_ sure. But he didn't give up on things. Especially things he felt strongly about. "We'll have to find him a way to be involved, without being physically present."

"Barring Aerith or Rayleigh finding a way around the connection, I think," Vincent said.

"Do you think that's possible?" Tseng asked.

Vincent was silent, thoughtful, for a long moment. "I think there's a good chance something can be done. How completely… I don't know."

"Anything would be an improvement on _that,_" Veld said.

"What happened, exactly?" Tseng asked.

"Apparently the Restrictor was able to influence his mental state," Veld said. "Zack _specifically_ stated he was 'in his head' and there were signs of unusual behavior, more aggression for one."

"Zack's not usually what I'd call _aggressive,_" Reno said slowly.

"No, and he's smarter than being aggressive _and_ impulsive," Veld said. "And yet."

"Not a good sign. But why would the Restrictor _try_ to make him more aggressive?" Tseng frowned.

"We don't know yet. I don't see any point in picking a fight with one of SOLDIER's best, myself, even if he somehow knew - or thought he knew - that he'd win it," Veld said. It made no logical sense, no matter how he looked at it. There was nothing to gain, and everything to lose.

"Another loose end, then," Tseng murmured.

"For now," Veld said. "It's like starting any puzzle. Gather up the pieces and get them turned around so you can get a good look at them before you start looking for the bigger picture."

"Yeah, still wish we had the _box,_" Reno muttered.

Veld smiled faintly, amused. "No such luck. Take Rude with you, when you go to see Zack."

"Yeah, can do. See if we can't chat up Kunsel, while we're at it," Reno said.

"May I assume I'm to speak with Aerith, then?" Tseng ventured.

"You'd assume correctly," Veld said. "Hopefully, for the SOLDIERs' sake if nothing else, she'll be inclined to help where she can."

"I would think so," he agreed. "She's been quite helpful."

"Depending on what she has to say, she may need to talk to Valentine as well, but we'll see," Veld said. Vincent didn't ask him why, but he was sure he would later, assuming he hadn't figured it out by then. "And of course Maur, you'll continue your digging."

Maur nodded. "Of course."

"Alright. You all have your assignments. Dismissed." Veld watched them file out with a breath of a sigh as the door closed. "What a mess."

"It could have been," Vincent agreed. "I'd say we escaped the worst of it, for now."

Veld huffed, resting his head on clasped hands. "Maybe. We can hope."

"…you didn't need Aerith to talk to _me_, did you?" He asked. "Or am I to be the mediator between her and Chaos?"

"I did literally mean you, thank you," Veld said. "You're still my Mystic Shit Expert. But talking to Chaos wouldn't hurt, if he's got something to say."

Vincent tilted his head as if listening to something far away, gaze unfocusing. "He's in a bit of a mood."

"Tell him I didn't let _you_ get away with that excuse, and I'm certainly not letting _him._ This could be a matter of life and death," Veld said. Vincent's lips curled in unmistakable amusement and he raised a brow. "What?"

Vincent shook his head, not answering directly. "He's still disgruntled over the Restrictor and wouldn't have minded letting Zack tear into him."

Veld hummed thoughtfully. "Does he think Zack would have _won_ that fight?"

Vincent was silent, eyes flickering faintly with a golden tint as he and Chaos communicated. "_Literally_, he believes Zack has the power and general strength to do it. However, he isn't quite sure he's capable of the kind of combat that would require."

Veld considered this a long moment. "What, fighting dirty?"

Vincent shifted his stance, and his tone dropped slightly. Eyes flared gold, Chaos took over the explanation. "Mortal bodies are capable of such strength that they would tear themselves apart, were they to use them. The brain blocks that sort of strength, due to simple self-preservation. This would likely be much the same; while he has the strength and powers, he would be subconsciously unwilling to pay the cost. And he has not been trained to push past that, unlike some of his predecessors."

"You mean Sephiroth," Veld said, certain of it. Genesis had been plenty brutal, too, but there was less reason and opportunity for Chaos to take notice of him.

"Merely one example, but yes." Chaos shook his head slightly. "He is capable, but you cannot depend on that. If it comes down to a fight… it is unlikely the _SOLDIERs_ will be able to spearhead the battle the way you've become accustomed."

"So… what do you suggest?" Veld asked. "Taking them out has to be an option on the table."

"All of them?" Chaos asked curiously.

"All the ones that are that big of a risk to general safety," Veld said. "The Restrictors. Probably the Tsviets, at least the colored ones…"

"Then you need someone stronger than both SOLDIER and Deepground," Chaos said. "How lucky you are to have such a thing."

Veld didn't like or trust that smile. That smile was eerily close to the one Vincent would give him before doing something he knew Veld wasn't going to like. And he already knew, deep down, what he was suggesting. "You can't mean Vincent."

"Of course I don't mean Vincent." Omega's Squire sniffed disdainfully, and offered a smile that seemed just a little too sharp. "I meant _me._"


	47. Downtime

"You know we're supposed to be resting, right?" Kunsel asked, stepping into the VR room behind Zack.

"Right now, _nothing_ will relax me faster than beating the hell out of something," Zack said. His smile was cheery, but empty - it didn't reach his eyes, and while he might have gotten away with that if he ever wore a helmet, right now the dissonance between was easily apparent.

Kunsel sighed. "Right. So what are we beating the hell out of? Is it a Hedgehog Pie day, or a Dual Horn day?"

"_Zolom._" Zack may have lost the ferocity of his glare, but there was still a glint in his eyes; he was still worked up, still _angry,_ and he knew it needed an outlet.

Kunsel just… hadn't expected _that level._

Zack was looking at him, a little softer with a tiny smile that had lost its hard edge. "You don't have to stay."

Kunsel arched a brow, snorting. "Yeah, no, don't start. Of _course_ I'm staying."

Zack hesitated a moment before he nodded, smile widening. "Okay. If you're sure -"

Kunsel grabbed his hand, and took advantage of his surprise to yank him over for a quick peck on the lips. "I'm_ sure._ Now c'mon, General. Show me what you can do."

Zack flashed him a quick, cocky grin and gave him a thumbs up before getting his phone menu up to scroll through it. "You got it, babe. Zolom time, gonna skin me a snake."

"Pretty sure it vanishes when it's defeated," Kunsel said.

"Well we'll see, won't we?" Zack picked the simulation and turned it on. The room shimmered around them and faded away, the illusion of an endless plain stretching out around them and the kind of blue sky you never saw in the city overhead. You could get lost in it all, if you didn't know better.

But he had a _goal,_ and was far too eager to meet it to get lost in _pretty scenery._

The Zolom materialized before them with a roar, seemingly erupting from the ground, not unlike the real thing. Of course, these were better circumstances - they weren't sinking into the marsh's mire, which was a very real concern when facing a real Zolom unless you were riding a chocobo - which was an _entirely different experience._

(He had a feeling if he'd tried _that_ Kunsel might not have been quite so agreeable about it. Even _if_ he was a better rider.)

Zack adjusted his grip on the Buster Sword, ribboned hilt comfortable in gloved hands, and took off with a war cry.

Kunsel had fully intended on playing backup - support staff, just in case the battle turned out to go on a while and Zack needed a moment to breathe - but Zack… didn't stop. He went after the Zolom with a single minded determination that was both awe-inspiring and unnerving to watch. He'd had a hell of a lot of pent-up tension boiling behind his reassuring smile, and now that it was given an outlet all Kunsel could do was stand back and watch.

Never had the Buster Sword seen such action, he would bet on it. Never had _Zack_ unleashed such a violent force in a sim, if ever, to the point where he was starting to gleam with the threat of a limit break.

And in that moment, when Zack took to the air with a superhuman leap worthy of a First Class, coming down on the Zolom's gaping maw with his sword held like a spear… he couldn't help but briefly wonder how that fight might have gone, if the Restrictor had _pushed._

Because Zack was finally coming into his own, surpassing his mentor's legacy and the memory of the other premiere Firsts. The big three had fallen, and left him behind, but Zack wasn't standing in their shadow anymore.

The Zolom hit the ground moments before Zack himself did, and began to disappear. But that was fine, Kunsel wasn't really paying it any attention. His eyes were on Zack, barely winded but a lot of the tension drained away. This time, his smile was genuine.

Kunsel smiled back at him, putting his sword back and clapping slowly. "Nice work."

"Told ya." Zack came over and hauled him into a hug, the Buster clicked into place on his back. He dropped his head to Kunsel's shoulder, just breathing him in a long moment, both arms around him now.

Kunsel hugged him back, wordlessly offering whatever comfort or reassurance Zack was seeking in the embrace. "Better?"

"…yeah, maybe." Zack heaved a sigh, giving him a final squeeze before backing up a moment. "Kinda helped."

"I'll take kinda." He smiled. "You need another round?"

Zack shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. I just…"

Kunsel waited it out, patient, knowing Zack would work the words out himself if given time.

"Just really needed to _hit something,_ y'know?" Zack said, shrugging. "Yay SOLDIER training."

Kunsel snorted. "Yeah, I hear that. You want to end the sim and get out of here, then?"

"Yeah," Zack admitted. "I do."

* * *

'Out of here' ended up being completely off base, which was fine by Kunsel. Harder for people to track them down and interrupt the desperately needed downtime.

They ditched the uniforms first, of course, and grabbed some sunglasses to do something about the glow since they didn't really want _attention._ Not that people weren't used to SOLDIERs in Midgar, especially close to Sector 0, and Zack's hair was pretty damn distinctive, but when you made a visible effort people were better about being willing to pretend with you. "So… where are we going?"

"Probably a little late to grab a motorcycle and run out to the Wastes, huh?" Zack grinned at Kunsel's arch look. "Kidding. Mostly. You know me, I don't run from my problems. I run towards them. Screaming."

Kunsel snickered, shaking his head. "Yeah, you really kinda tend to. You want to chew on that right now, though?"

"No." Zack sighed, taking his hand as they walked aimlessly towards Sector 1 and the train station. "I don't want to even _think_ about all that right now."

"Leaving ShinRa in the dust for now, huh?" Kunsel squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I'm with you. Let's get some air and just… catch our breath."

Zack nodded immediately, meandering for the train station. "Down?"

"Yeah, why not?" Kunsel didn't really care _where_ they went, as long as they were together.

They made it down to the Slums and took to ambling around until they ended up in the Train Graveyard just outside Sector 7 proper. Rumored to be haunted, and _definitely_ monster infested, odds were very good they'd be left to their own devices there.

They ended up sitting on top of a relatively stable train car, pressed together from shoulder to knee not from any 'necessity' beyond the need for contact. For grounding.

For the reminder that, no matter what happened, they still had each other.

From the way Zack's eyes had sort of glazed over, staring at nothing, Kunsel knew he needed it _badly. _After a while, when dark brows had knit and his hands tightened into fists, he placed a gentle hand on his knee. "Where're you going?"

Zack sucked in a breath, vision refocusing, and offered a tight smile. "Nowhere, babe."

Kunsel deliberately tipped his glasses down to give him the full impact of his incredulous look. "Uh huh. You were a million miles away, try again."

Zack's smile fell. "Kuns, I -"

"_Ah._" Kunsel put a finger to Zack's lips. "No sorries. Not after all of this. Just… let me in, alright? No doing things solo. That never ends well."

Zack smiled faintly, eyes soft and fond.

And then he promptly licked Kunsel's finger. There was absolutely nothing sexy about it, just a childish swipe of the tongue.

Kunsel yanked his hand back, making a face. "_Zack._ Dude, _no._"

Zack cackled, grinning shamelessly as Kunsel swatted his chest, then proceeded to make a show of wiping his hand off. "You loooooove me."

"For some reason." Kunsel wrinkled his nose, but it was hard to stay upset when it had made him _genuinely_ laugh. Those were too few and far between these days. "I swear, you're like, five."

"Gotta let that inner child out sometimes, Kuns. They get all bored inside and then _things happen._" Zack nodded, mock somber even as his eyes twinkled with mirth he didn't bother to hide. He never was all that good at that anyway; wore his heart on his sleeve ever since they'd met - and it was part of his charm, as much a strength to the man as it threatened to be a weakness to the warrior.

He had mere _seconds_ to stop Zack from doing something _else, _jerking back in the moment in time to grab wiggling fingers on the way to his ribs. "Uhuh, don't _even._"

"What, you get to be broody and I don't? That's not fair," Zack protested.

"I wear it better," Kunsel teased, glad to get another smile out of him. "Besides, I'm _not_ Fair. You're Fair."

Zack groaned. "C'mon, man, I told you that's only funny when _I_ say it."

"I'm not wrong," Kunsel said.

"Neither am I." Zack huffed, shifting to face him better.

"No, you're Fa-"

This time, he didn't move fast enough to stop Zack from tickling him. Making outraged sounds amidst his laughter, he squirmed and fell backwards, eventually ending with Zack on top of him and both of them laughing themselves breathless.

When the moment passed and the laughter eased off, they found themselves conveniently close. And well, it would just be a shame to waste that.

Kunsel leaned up just a bit, enough to kiss him softly. "I _do_ love you, idiot."

Zack chuckled softly, fingers running through Kunsel's hair, sifting silky blond strands through them with a smile. "Love you too, babe. Always will."

"Yeah. Always." Kunsel smiled softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

This time, it was Zack who leaned down for the kiss, soft and slow and lingering in a way that kindled a subtle warmth between them.

It settled on the backburner when Zack dropped his head onto Kunsel's chest with a gusty sigh. "When did things get this complicated, Kuns?"

"Waaaay before we were on the scene, babe." Kunsel sunk a hand into unruly black spikes, scratching gently. Zack deflated further against him with a sigh, mumbling something he couldn't quite make out. "Hmm?"

"They're just _kids,_" he said, looking up at him. "What the hell is ShinRa doing, Kuns? I got here when I was _fourteen._"

"I know," Kunsel said softly.

"I was a _baby._"

"You should hear Benji's rant on it sometime," Kunsel suggested, ignoring the fact that a whole grand total of _four years_ had passed since then.

"I thought I was so grown up, out on my own, getting a _job,_ and - and -"

"I know," Kunsel repeated, petting his hair. "I do know."

"It's not _fair,_" Zack whispered.

This time, Kunsel didn't make a joke out of it. He just held Zack a little tighter, kissing his hair. He'd known this was coming from the moment he'd set eyes on Shelke; just as well it happened now, away from prying eyes.

"I don't know how to _fix_ it," Zack finally said.

"Babe… there might not _be_ a 'fix,'" Kunsel said gently. "But we'll do everything we can to make it _better,_ okay?"

Zack nodded, hugging him tight. He wasn't sure he was ready to accept that… not permanently. But for now… for now, maybe it was a start.

* * *

**A/N:** And that is the last of my buffer! Since I'm a mod over at the FF7 Fanworks Exchange (over on Ao3, check out FF7Central on Tumblr, Pillowfort or Twitter for the promo) I'm going to be very busy, very soon, so there may not be updates until some time next month or even into August. But, you know me. I'll be back. In the meantime, you all take care.


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